After the Assassination
by amaryllis214
Summary: Not an original title, I know. Aftermath of 2x08. Reviews will get you faster updates though!
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

It's been three weeks.

Three weeks and still no change in his condition. And each day, Fitz's condition received less attention from the media, less urgency and heartbreak from the American people. As people began to move on and focus on supporting President Langston, Olivia realized that people have given up hope.

Where was their staying power?

What happened to sticking next to someone no matter what, until there was nothing left to hold on to? It was 3 o'clock in the morning and Liv was still standing vigil by Fitz's side. Mellie visited daily for about an hour to keep up appearances but even she had begun to move on with her life as well. But for Liv, it was far different. Life didn't just _go on_, it stayed still. It stopped _completely_ and it would not start up again until he opened his eyes and she heard his voice.

"I regret not telling you how much I love you," Liv whispered, curled up at Fitz's side on the hospital bed, one hand curled in his unresponsive one. "You always declared your feelings for me so freely, but I was more reluctant with my affections. But I promise you that if you wake up for me, I will tell you everyday how much you mean to me. How much I value you." she paused, looking up at his face.

"I would give up the whole world if I could see you smile again," she finished quietly.

Liv started to drift off but was startled awake. She didn't know what had woken her until she felt it again.

Movement.

Liv looked down at Fitz's hand and saw that it was curling against hers. She jumped up and looked at his face.

"Fitz?" she choked out, too afraid to hope.

His eyes started to open, then close again. Liv ran and yelled for the doctor as she felt time start back up again.

The doctor rushed in and placed the stethoscope against Fitz's chest, listening to his heartbeat and his lungs. Taking out a pen light, he flicked the light against Fitz's eyes as they opened again.

"Mr. President?" he asked, "Mr. President, can you hear me? My name is Dr. Michael Stanley. You're at First Memorial Hospital," he said.

Fitz began to blink more rapidly and his eyes opened fully as he looked around. He tried to speak as he focused on the doctor, but couldn't get any words out. The doctor ordered the nurse to quickly grab some ice chips for the president and she went out immediately.

Liv's heart was pounding hard in her chest but she didn't dare breathe. _'He's awake,'_ she thought happily. She moved to his side and lightly touched his hand. He quickly turned his hand over to hold hers and Liv sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

The nurse returned quickly and slowly fed Fitz the ice chips. After a few, Fitz was finally able to find his voice, and to Liv, it was the most beautiful sound in the whole world.

"What happened?" Fitz asked the doctor.

"Mr. President, what was the last thing you remember?" Dr. Stanley asked him, taking his vitals.

Fitz's eyes cleared as he asked, "Why are you calling me Mr. President? And where is my wife?"

* * *

Olivia slowly let go of Fitz's hand when his words finally sank in. At Liv's movement, Fitz noticed her. And he asked her a question that made her heart shatter all over again.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Mr. Pres—I mean, Mr. Grant…what is the last thing you remember?" the doctor asked, beginning to worry. _Does he not remember that he's the president?_

Fitz turned his attention back to the doctor after reluctantly moving his gaze away from the beautiful woman next to him. Who was she? And why did he feel like he knew her?

"Mellie and I were going out on our 15th year anniversary dinner, and then…" Fitz paused, trying to remember. "And then…"

There was a long silence as Fitz tried to recall what happened after dinner, but the doctor interrupted his thoughts.

"It's okay, Mr. Grant," he said, trying to calm him. Dr. Stanley didn't want his patient to suffer any stress after waking up from such a deep sleep.

"Don't try to remember, you'll only cause yourself stress. Let the memories come back naturally, and—"

Fitz interrupted him, starting to panic, "But why can't I remember? What happened? And why am I here?" he began to yell.

Olivia started to leave the room as the doctor informed him that Mellie had been notified and was on her way to the hospital that very instant. But before Liv could make her escape, he stopped her again, saying, "Who are you? Do I know you?"

Liv stopped at the door and composed herself before turning around. Yes, he knew her. He knew her every emotion, her every habit and feeling. He knew her better than anyone in the world and Liv needed to get out of that hospital before she broke down completely. She could already feel her eyes burning, tears threatening to spill over.

Liv pasted a fake, cheery smile on her face as she turned around. She looked him in the eye and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Grant. Everything is going to be fine. Mellie is on her way and all will be well, you'll see."

Liv grabbed her jacket and purse and quickly left behind the man who was the mate to her soul. But what did she expect? The man had been shot _in the head_. And even if he hadn't been, did she expect him to wake up and welcome her with open arms? Did she think he'd forgive her for giving up on them and kiss her and tell her that he'd love her always…no matter how much she tried to push him away?

Liv would allow herself this one night to grieve and then she would get up the next day and do her job because there were people who depended on her, people who relied on her to stay strong and keep it together. But even as she convinced herself that she only needed one night of falling apart, she couldn't help but look back at the hospital once more, and regret what she had lost.

The person she loved most in the world didn't even know her name.

* * *

**Hey guys! I know I haven't written anything in a while, but episode 8 of this season was so good, I couldn't _not_ write. Hope everyone is well! I know this first chapter had to be a little sad, but it's going to get better! Don't abandon this ship, people. I have an idea where I want this story to go, and I'm excited to get started on it. Happy reading! I'll try to update again either today or tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Fitz, honey, try to relax. It's only been a week and you need to rest more. Focus on your recovery," Mellie said as she watched Fitz pace the floor.

When Mellie got the call that Fitz was awake but had forgotten the past five years of his life, Mellie was ecstatic. Finally, Olivia Pope was out of his life. He didn't remember meeting her or sleeping with her or falling in love with her. Mellie saw this as their chance to start again, to have a real relationship again.

But when Mellie walked into the hospital room, her hopes began to slowly fade. Fitz wasn't happy to see her, as his last memory was their argument about whether or not to get a divorce. Fitz had brought up the subject again after he found out she'd cheated on him.

"We haven't even had sex in years, Fitz!" she yelled. "What was I supposed to do? And why aren't you angrier?" she asked, hurt that he didn't even seem angry that she'd cheated.

"I don't expect you to be faithful to me, Mellie," Fitz had said, tired. He couldn't care less who she slept with, since he hadn't seen Mellie as an object of desire in almost a decade. Fitz grew weary of pretending to keep their marriage together simply for the sake of their careers and children.

Besides, he wanted to be free. Free so that if some wonderful, fiery woman came along who could make his heart race and his palms sweaty, he could pursue her. Fitz wondered if such a woman even existed for him at this stage in his life. He was in his late 40s, in a loveless marriage, and had two children.

"We're not happy together, Mellie, so why are you still fighting me on this?" he asked, ready to get their night over with. They only had anniversary dinners because they were _expected_ to have them, especially after 15 years.

"I just don't think that divorce is the answer, Fitz," Mellie said. "What about the children?" she asked, falling back on her old arguments.

As Mellie looked at Fitz's cold face in the hospital room, she remembered that entire night in detail, and wondered why, of all memories, his ended there.

"I'm so happy that you're awake honey," Mellie said, embracing him and kissing him. It took a moment for her to realize that he was unresponsive.

As she pulled back, she saw that Fitz's face was trained on her belly. Fitz said, tonelessly, "I've missed a lot in the last five years, haven't I?"

She drew away from the bed to sit on the chair next to Fitz. Then she began to outline the past five years to Fitz, including the fact that he was the President of the United States, and she was the First Lady.

"And you're pregnant. With our third child," Fitz said, no inflection in his voice. The fact that they were even having sex again astounded him, let alone that they'd been together enough for her to conceive.

"Yes, Fitz," Mellie replied, unsure where his feelings lay.

"And we're happy? Together?" he asked, trying to clarify.

Mellie replied, "You don't have to sound so shocked, Fitz," she paused. "You forgave me and I forgave you."

It didn't escape his notice that she didn't answer his question. His wife was an excellent liar, but Fitz didn't see any reason she had to lie. The evidence of wedding rings still on both of their fingers as well as her pregnancy compelled him to at least _try_ to believe that she was telling the truth.

He settled back into the covers, rubbing his fingers together, the fingers that the beautiful woman had held on to. It was that same woman who he thought about now, a week later, as he paced in his bedroom at the White House. The doctors had told Mellie that being in familiar settings could help jog Fitz's memories but still there was nothing.

"There was a woman," Fitz began to say to Mellie as he paced, "in the hospital room with me when I woke up. Do you know who she is?" he asked, stopping in front of her.

Mellie looked livid. _'Interesting,'_ Fitz thought.

Mellie controlled her expression before she answered, saying, "It could have been anyone, dear—"

Fitz waved her off. He knew that he wouldn't get the truth from her simply by her facial expression. There was something about the woman that upset Mellie, and darn it, he wanted to know what it was. He wanted to know her name and why his thoughts kept straying to her.

Who was she? Why was she at the side of the President of the United States at 3 o'clock in the morning instead of his wife? Why did she look like she hadn't slept in weeks? And why did she smile so falsely at him when he asked her who she was? Instead of reassuring him with her response, he had the distinct impression that she was only moments away from crying. And why did the thought of her crying cause his heart to constrict?

"I need a computer," Fitz said suddenly.

Mellie narrowed her eyes briefly before asking, "What for?"

Fitz said, "I want to read the news, check the internet, and basically figure out everything that I've missed for the past half decade."

Mellie, relieved, went to bring him his laptop and sat it in front of him when she returned. "I'm going to go see how the kids are doing, okay?" she asked, kissing him on the cheek. Fitz had to fight himself in order not to turn away from her when she leaned in close, but it was difficult. She said they'd forgiven each other, but not that they were happy. So, he'd make an effort.

After Mellie left, Fitz turned on the computer. It wasn't one he'd recognized, but Mellie said it was his personal laptop.

Since Fitz was in high school, he'd always had secret files that he kept hidden on his laptop so that, to the casual observer, there was nothing really personal on his computer. Fitz checked the compartments of his hard drives to see if he still kept to that practice. Several minutes later, he found the answer.

Fitz opened the files to see what secrets 50 year old Fitz had that 45 year old Fitz didn't yet know. And as the first file opened, he stared at the screen, shocked.

Photos.

They were photos of Fitz and he wasn't alone. He was with the woman who'd been in the hospital with him, the woman whose name he still didn't know.

And they looked…happy.

In all the photos, they were either smiling or holding each other, but in the last picture, they were kissing. And it didn't look like a casual kiss or a meaningless one, like the ones he shared with Mellie. No, that kiss made Fitz feel like he was intruding on an intimate moment between two people. The man in the picture looked like the world could be falling apart around him, but he wouldn't notice because he was kissing her. And the woman looked just as consumed in him, like he was more important to her than her next breath.

Fitz didn't remember ever being that happy, or ever thinking that he could be. Fitz stared at the picture for what felt like hours as a few things started to click into place. Gazing at it one last time, he closed the files and began to hide them in his hard drive again, making them all but invisible unless someone knew what they were looking for.

Closing the laptop, an idea formed in Fitz's mind. He walked to the door and peeked outside. He saw two secret service agents and asked, "Which one of you is Tom?" One of the men stepped forward and Fitz waved him inside.

Closing the door, Fitz turned to him. He said, "I'm told that you have been on my personal detail for the past three years." Tom nodded. "And you go everywhere that I go, don't you? I don't have any secrets from you, do I?" Fitz asked, hoping that his theory would prove correct. Tom nodded again, saying, "It's impossible to keep secrets from someone who shadows your every move, sir."

Stepping closer, Fitz said, "I think that there was a woman, possibly one that I was in love with. One who wasn't Mellie," he said. Tom said, "Yes, sir. You are correct."

"What was her name, Tom?" Fitz asked, his heart pounding. If he was correct, then he needed to speak with her, immediately. Face to face.

"Olivia, sir," Tom replied, smiling for the first time since Fitz woke up. "Olivia Pope."

* * *

**Hey guys! Tell me what you think! Chapter 1 may have left you thinking that it was over, but I'm an Olitz shipper, so of course, it's never going to be over until the fat lady sings. More chapters soon to come, I promise! Happy reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"How have you been, Cy?" Liv asked Cyrus when he settled in the chair across from her. He'd been showing up at her office for lunch almost daily over the past week. Ever since Fitz left the hospital.

Cyrus let out a deep breath. "I've been better," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him. Cyrus contemplated the last seven days and could only describe them as…weird. "He remembers me, mainly because I met him over six years ago, but he doesn't remember that I ran his campaign or anything at all, Liv," he said.

Looking away, she cleared her throat and asked, "What have the doctors said? Is there a chance he'll gain his memory back?" she asked, holding her breath.

Cyrus replied, "They don't know. He's back on his feet though. Dr. Stanley has assured us that memory loss is a completely normal side effect when people sustain head injuries and that he could gain all of his memories back or none at all." Cyrus quietly added, "We should hope for the former but prepare ourselves for the latter."

Glancing up at Olivia, a stranger would think that she was calmly taking in the news as an impartial listener, but Cyrus was no stranger to Liv. He saw the minute details that showed themselves through her body language. He noticed how she briefly clenched her pen tighter. He also noticed how her mouth trembled, just a little, and how she looked down so as to hide any escaping tears from him.

Fitz only remembered Cyrus because he met him before his 15th year anniversary, but he met Liv almost three years ago. Olivia had been Cyrus' star pupil, the best student he'd ever had the honor of mentoring, and after all their history together, it felt almost _unnatural_ that Fitz didn't even know who Olivia _was_, let alone that she was the love of his life.

"Look on the bright side," Cyrus said, taking a bite out of his pasta salad. "At least this time, you can make a better _first_ impression," he said, winking at her.

That startled a laugh out of Olivia. Then she said, smiling, "Believe it or not, he actually _liked_ my first impression."

It was Cyrus' turn to laugh then. Turning serious, he said, "He wants to see you."

Olivia's smile slowly faded from her face. She couldn't see him. This past week had been utter agony without him and she was expected to just go see him? And somehow stop herself from throwing herself into his arms and peppering his face with kisses? Who did Cyrus think she was, Wonder woman?

"How could he want to see me, Cy? He doesn't even know me," she said.

Cyrus answered, "It's been a week, Liv. He may not remember you…yet…but he still needs to make a decision about whether or not he wants to take authority back from Sally Langston. _Vice President_ Langston is getting restless and I don't blame her. If the brain-addled man living upstairs was a few memories away from taking my position of power, I'd be nervous too.

"Fitz needs to make a move. He could take the presidency back, but if she fights him on it, does he have the knowledge and strength to beat her? And if he did, will he have the support of the people on his side? I leave strategizing of that caliber to you and you alone, Livy." Leaning forward in his seat, he added, "Plus, Tom said he wanted to meet the woman who won him the election the first time around."

Olivia pushed aside her soup and breathed deeply. She didn't know if she could do this, but what choice did she have? She couldn't feign sickness or tiredness. And she couldn't flat out refuse. Besides, he _needed_ her right now, at least until he got his presidency back from Langston. And she'd never been able to turn her back on him when he needed her. It was that simple.

Liv asked, "When and where does he want me?" And of course, her dirty mind went _there_. It always did when it came to Fitz.

"At Camp David," Cyrus replied, finishing his meal. Standing, he said, "Right now."

* * *

Fitz was taking a tour of Camp David when Tom approached him, saying, "Cyrus is on his way with Ms. Pope. They'll be here in approximately 15 minutes, sir."

"Thanks, Tom," Fitz replied, nervous to see Olivia again. When he saw her in the hospital, she'd been tired and obviously didn't want to stick around and talk to him. But now, he could talk to her, in broad daylight, and ask her all the questions he wanted. And, hopefully, he could spend some time alone with her.

"This is the last cabin before we reach the main house," Fitz said to Tom as they came to the door. "Who's staying here?"

Tom said, "No one currently, sir. You ordered that the cabin was to remain unoccupied."

Fitz looked at him, confused. "Why?" he asked.

Tom looked him in the eye and said, "You spent a lot of your free time in this cabin when you were first made President, sir."

Fitz read between the lines. This must have been where Fitz and Olivia stayed when they were away from the White House.

Without hesitating, Fitz opened the door and stepped inside. He didn't know what he expected, though. Memories didn't rush at him at the furniture or the view. It looked like a normal cabin with clean furnishings. Fitz went to each room and took in every detail but nothing jogged his memories. None of the passionate kisses that he'd shared with Oliv—Livy—in the pictures.

Fitz stopped at the bed. He recognized the headboard as being in the background of some of the photos on his computer. So, it did happen. It was real.

Leaving the cabin, Fitz walked with Tom and the rest of his detail back to the main house. "I still don't want anyone else living there," he said.

"I figured as much, sir," Tom replied stoically.

* * *

Olivia's hands were sweaty.

A fact that she found annoying and nerve-wracking. For the fourth time, she rubbed them against her pants leg as she tried to focus on the meeting ahead. Cyrus was driving and had just cleared the security gate at Camp David as memories assaulted her.

She remembered when Fitz had unexpectedly arrived at her cabin door the first time. When he'd come the last time. The arguments and debates they'd had with Cyrus and other members of their strategy team. The late nights and the wine.

And other things.

"It'll be fine, Livy," Cyrus said, patting her hand.

"You're coddling me," Liv said, smiling slightly.

"I don't coddle. Coddling is for overprotective fathers who don't want their daughters to be hurt by some idiot boy," Cyrus said absently.

Liv jerked her head around to stare at him for a long moment. Finding her voice, she said, "I wasn't complaining. Coddling looks good on you."

Smiling, Cyrus parked and got out of the car. Finding her courage, Liv grasped the door handle and prepared herself. She wasn't worried about the strategical part of the meeting—she could handle that in her sleep. No, what worried her was handling the look on his face. Liv didn't dare hope that it would be a look of recognition or of homecoming. But the look of a stranger or an acquaintance.

She steeled herself against being hurt by that look and put to the forefront of her mind the fact that she'd made Fitz a promise. She told him that if he woke up for her, she'd tell him everyday how much he meant to her. And whether by word or deed, Liv fully intended to stick to that promise.

**Everyone, thank you SO MUCH for all of your wonderful and kind reviews. As a writer, it is the most flattering thing to happen, so don't be shy, keep them coming! How do you think the meeting between them will be? Awkward? Passionate? A little like their first meeting? I haven't decided yet. Update coming soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I was not present when the two of you met, but I do know that you met on the presidential campaign trail and that Mr. Beene, your chief of staff, introduced you," Tom had said earlier that morning as they walked in the Rose Garden of the White House. He'd been filling him in on the details involving his relationship with Olivia, or Livy, as he apparently called her.

"I only found out about you after having viewed the surveillance cameras in the Oval Office the morning after the Inaugural Balls." Tom cleared his throat.

Now this, Fitz had to know. "What happened in the Oval Office that would make a hardened secret service agent blush?" he asked.

Tom replied, "Let's just say that I don't believe _anyone_, in the history of the United States presidency, has ever done such things on the resolute desk."

"With cameras watching us?" Fitz asked, astounded. What was it about the woman that would make him be so reckless? Did he want to lose the presidency before it even began?

"In your defense, sir," Tom said, still blushing slightly, "You didn't know at the time."

'_She's here,'_ Fitz thought, coming back to the present, as he heard two car doors open and close. He'd settled himself into the seating area of the main house at Camp David but stood as the front door opened. Cyrus walked in followed by Olivia. As he looked at her for the second time, he realized that his pictures of her did not do her justice.

She was just…breathtaking.

And if he'd had this reaction when they met the first time, when she apparently was called in to 'fix' his campaign, Fitz wondered why he wouldn't have just fired her on the spot.

As Fitz looked at Ms. Olivia Pope, he didn't know if he believed what Tom had told him. She seemed so calm and collected, almost aloof. That she would even agree to such things in the Oval Office, of all places, seemed far removed from her character. _But_, Fitz reminded himself, _I don't _remember_ her character_.

_It doesn't matter,_ Fitz sternly told himself. _Because the Fitz that I was a month ago knew her character. And I know what those photos must have meant to me. The fact that I would risk keeping such damaging evidence on my own personal computer tells me all that I need to know._

"Cyrus, it's good to see you again," Fitz said, reaching out his hand to shake Cyrus'.

Cyrus looked at the hand blankly for a moment, then reached to return the gesture. Fitz's smile faltered for a moment as he remembered that Cyrus was now a close friend and had been with Fitz most of the five years he'd lost. He had to remember that.

"Mr. President, this is Olivia Pope," Cyrus said to Fitz, trying anxiously to judge his reaction and Liv's response.

Looking her in the eye, Fitz said, "I'm told wonderful things about you, Ms. Pope. I know that it must be awkward to stand here and pretend to meet me for the first time, especially since I'm told we've known each other for almost three years, but please be patient with me," Fitz said, reaching for her hand to shake.

Olivia stared at his hand, much like Cyrus had, and took a deep breath. She thrust her hand forward and replied, "No explanation is required, Mr. President. I'm so…glad…that you're feeling better. And even if your memories don't come back, you survived. That's all that matters," she said, releasing her tingling hand.

He looked good. _Really_ good. Something tightly wound in her chest began to uncoil as she fully realized that Fitz was out of the woods. If someone had asked her if she would sacrifice his memories of her as the price for his life, she would have made that deal in a heartbeat. But it still _hurt_.

Fitz began to speak, but Olivia beat him to it, wanting to get this over with. Fitz hadn't looked at her as if he didn't know her, not like he did when he first woke up in the hospital. But if anything, that made it _worse_. He looked at her as if they were friends, as if they were _all…_ _friends_, but she knew that the only person he even recognized was Cyrus. And that false sense of friendship really bothered her since all she'd wanted to do was talk to him in a real way, not as a fixer, but as Livy.

"Shall we talk, Mr. President? Have you decided whether or not you want to remain as acting Commander-In-Chief?" Liv asked after they all sat.

Fitz said, "I see no reason why I should give up my presidency." Liv flinched slightly. "I may have lost the last five years of my life, but I remember that the presidency is something that I have dreamed of my entire life. I want this more than anything, and if you could help me attain it, it would help make everything that I've lost be a little easier to bear," he finished.

Liv straightened and said, "Sir, I have to ask this: are you sure? Because if we are going to work to get you reinstated, I need you to be _sure_."

Fitz leaned forward across from her and stated, "I've never been more certain about anything in my life, Ms. Pope."

Liv tried to read his expression and realized that he was absolutely serious. No one would fault him from dropping out and going home to heal from his injuries and the trauma he'd faced.

It would be easier.

But Fitz, in all the time she'd known him, never settled for the easiest way, especially if it compromised his beliefs or values. It was one of the reasons she'd fallen in love with him.

Liv stood, taking off her jacket. "Cyrus, gather a team. I want several foot runners and lobbyists. Schedule a press conference for tomorrow afternoon, around 3 o'clock. During that press conference, Fitz will make a very brief statement about his health and then you will take over to answer any questions, but only from a few reporters. We don't want to overwhelm the American public, but we also want them to see that the President of the United States is healthy and fully capable of running this country again," she said. Cyrus, smiling, immediately left the room to set things in motion.

Liv turned to Fitz and asked, "How are you feeling physically, Mr. President?"

Fitz stared at her with an open mouth. _Who is this woman?_

Realizing he still hadn't replied, he said, "I'm still a little slow on my feet and my chest still hurts from the incision wound, but I'm taking pain pills for that."

"Good. Continue to follow your prescriptions to the letter. Don't try to wean yourself off of them before you're ready, because if you collapse or seem to be in significant pain, it would be considered a weakness. And if that weakness is somehow discovered by the media, we're done before we've even begun," she said, rolling up her sleeves.

A crew of young men and women entered the cabin and began setting up laptops, fax machines, phones, and paperwork in the work-area of the main house.

"For now, I want you to go walking," Liv said.

"Walking?" Fitz asked, frustrated. He'd hoped for some time alone with her so that he could discuss his suspicions about their relationship, but it seemed that it wasn't going to happen. Not today.

"Yes, I want you to walk the grounds with your secret service detail. There is a crew of media stationed at the north entrance. Make sure that you pass that way, but do not look at the cameras and do not get too close.

"We don't want it to look like you're looking for attention—you're the President of the United States, you don't have to _look_ for attention, not like Sally Langston does, because it will find you. So far, no one has seen you on your feet and we want those pictures to make the front page of the paper in the morning. We need people to see physical evidence of your recovery. After your walk, I want you to meet me and Cyrus back here, along with your other advisors so that we can write your speech," she finished.

"The speech for tomorrow's press conference?" he asked Liv. When Fitz told her he wanted his position back, he didn't think everything would happen so quickly. The pace at which everything was moving left him feeling a little breathless. _What if I'm not ready?_

Catching the anxiety in his voice, Olivia immediately knelt in front of him, saying, "Don't worry, everything is going to be fine. You. Are. Ready. You've been ready for the last ten years to take over this role. We'll take it slow in the beginning and you can go your own pace once you get back in the Oval.

"Trust me to take care of everything, and all you'll have to do is be seen by the people and give a few compelling speeches. It'll work out, you'll see," she said, reaching for his hand before stopping herself and letting it fall to the floor.

Fitz gazed at her and knew that he was right about them. He'd fallen in love with this incredible powerhouse of a woman and then gotten shot. She'd stayed by his side and she hadn't given up on him, even when others had. The knowledge helped him to breathe easier.

Olivia realized that they'd been staring at each other, in silence, for far too long. Standing quickly, she replied to his earlier question. "No, the speech isn't for tomorrow. Tomorrow, you will make a brief statement to the media about your recovery and health. You'll thank them for not giving up on their _President_, and you'll doing it wearing a deep navy suit, white shirt, and red tie. You won't have to state your intention to take back power from Langston, your very presence and confidence will say that.

"The speech we write will reiterate everything that you said in the State of the Union address, reaffirming everything you believe. You need to watch that speech, several times, and remember the things you promised. Then, we'll compose another speech, one that is reflective of what you believed then and what you believe now. We will address the assassination attempt, but only briefly, since you don't want that to be your focus. And then we'll focus on your appeal to the cabinet," she finished, putting distance between them.

Fitz stood and reached for his jacket, feeling better than he'd felt since he woke up in that hospital room with no recollection of how he got there. "Ms. Po—Livy—thank you," Fitz said sincerely.

Liv nodded and turned to give instructions to her temporary staff. It was going to be a long night, but Olivia had to admit to herself that she was cautiously happy. She was doing something for him, something he may not have been able to do on his own, and the fact that she was able to help him, even in so small a way, made Liv feel more grounded than she'd felt all week.

* * *

**Hi everyone! Again, thank you so much for your reviews, I'm so happy you liked them! I hope to finish this story before Thursday so that it won't contradict with whatever goes on in the show. Hopefully we'll get an amazing episode, one that's just as good as 2x08 since Scandal won't return until January or February of next year. Don't be shy with your reviews and don't hesitate to give suggestions or ideas, they are greatly appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

**Hey everyone! Thanks for some of your comments and criticisms! I heard what you said, and this chapter is longer, it just took me longer to update the story for that reason ;). I also took some of your suggestions regarding the plot line. Hope you enjoy!**

"You're looking mighty chipper," Cyrus said to Mellie as he caught up with her in the hallway. They were at the White House now and Fitz was well on his way to becoming president again.

'_No thanks to Olivia Pope,'_ Mellie thought, smirking at the irony. "There's a lot to be happy about, Cy," Mellie replied, rubbing her belly. She expected the baby to come any day now even though she wasn't actually due to give birth for another three weeks. Both of her previous children had come early, so she expected no different from this child.

"My husband survived an assassination attempt, he forgot Olivia Pope, and we're practically back in the spotlight as the POTUS and First Lady. The icing on the cake would be if we actually caught this assassin and administered the death penalty, but I'll count my blessings," she finished, smirking.

Cyrus decided not to burst Mellie's bubble, per se, deciding that a happy Millicent was better for him than an angry Millicent. Cyrus had been wrapped up in his own relationship drama when Fitz had apparently begun his affair with Olivia the first time around. But this time, he noticed what would have been obvious to anyone who knew what to look for.

Already, even though the man had recently woken up from a 3-week coma, Fitz's attention was always divided between what someone was saying to him and where Olivia was located in any given room. And when Liv thought no one was paying attention, she would look at Fitz with such naked longing that he was surprised he didn't feel her gaze on him from across the room. A disaster waiting to happen if there ever was one, but Cyrus wouldn't stand in their way.

Not anymore.

But if it helped Mellie to sleep better as long as she thought Fitz and Olivia were over, then Cyrus was content to let her hold on to her fantasies.

"So, no lingering resentments?" Cyrus asked, wanting to be sure.

Mellie stopped walking and turned to face Cyrus directly. Mellie knew that Cyrus only asked that question because he was looking out for Olivia. Because he _loved_ her. Like a daughter, but still. She didn't know what inspired the men in her life to think that Olivia Pope walked on sunshine, but whatever it was, Mellie was beginning to seriously hate the woman for it.

And slightly envy her for it.

Because if Mellie had half the loyalty of Cyrus Beene and any of the passionate love of Fitz Grant that Liv so easily acquired, Mellie would want for nothing more.

"I have no qualms against Olivia, Cy," Mellie replied, only slightly lying. "As long as she continues to do everything she can to get Fitz and I back in the White House, Liv and I can go back to pretending to be BFFs again. The sooner that can be accomplished, the sooner she can get out of our lives and I can try to mend things with Fitz. I consider that a win, don't you?" she asked, smiling brightly at Cyrus before walking away.

Cyrus smirked at her back. _'It might be a win,'_ Cyrus thought, _'But not exactly the win you're hoping for, I bet.'_

* * *

Liv kicked off her heels at the front door of her old cabin and fell in a heap, exhausted, onto her living room couch.

The last few days had tested her in ways she hadn't thought were possible, but, in the end, she could only smile. In the last three days, Fitz had been re-established as a healthy and worthy contender for the presidency. Cyrus had wanted to make an immediate appeal to the cabinet so that Fitz could get reinstated, but Olivia had pushed hard for Fitz to take a more subtle approach to claiming his seat as opposed to the heavy-handed one.

He hadn't waltzed into the Oval, demanding his position back. He publicly thanked Langston for her service to her country, for stepping in during their time of need. He'd shown himself as humble and strong; he'd been shot _three_ times and still lived to talk about it.

He'd shown himself as the leader that the American people voted for, the man that they still wanted as their president. And as such, the people wouldn't have to choose sides between Langston and Fitz. His actions and his words didn't inspire contention, so people _expected_ Sally Langston to simply step aside.

This was exactly the public consensus Liv had been hoping for.

Olivia smiled again as she thought of the speech she and Cyrus had helped Fitz compose. "Why not talk about the person who tried to have me assassinated? Shouldn't the focus be on him?" Fitz had asked Liv two days ago.

"No," Liv replied as she paced the floor. They still had their 'headquarters' set up at Camp David and it was there, like so long ago, that they'd written his speech. "You can mention it and we _will_ handle it at a later date, but for now, it definitely should not be your focus. You don't want to be the aggressive one here, the one out for blood. The American people will do that for you, without any encouragement from you.

"You are not the wounded, seeking someone to lash out at. You are strong. You are a _survivor_. Use that strength to convey to the people that not only are you capable of running this country, _Mr. President_, but that you are the best man for the job," she finished.

Fitz watched her as she paced. In fact, he'd been watching her ever since she'd walked through that door. This beautiful, intelligent woman was working around the clock for him, doing everything she could to help him reclaim his presidency, and he hadn't even had a chance alone with her to thank her for it.

"There's a cabin near to this one that is unoccupied. I've had it prepared for you to stay in until we get everything sorted out," Fitz told her later that evening when he pulled her aside.

Liv's heart started racing. She appreciated the offer as it would make it easier for her if she didn't have to keep running home to change clothes, but Liv just didn't know if she could handle being in that place. The place where so many memories were made between them. Hallways and rooms filled with the echoes of their lovemaking, their laughter, their _joy_.

"That's very kind of you, sir, but I don't think—" Liv began

Fitz cut her off, saying, "I insist, Livy. It'd be easier and more efficient if you were close by anyway." At that precise moment, one of the legal aides approached, asking for Liv's signature on some paperwork. Fitz took advantage of the distraction to make his way over to Cyrus. He didn't want to force her to stay, but it seemed like the only option he had if he wanted to talk to her privately.

It occurred to Fitz that he would not have even known about himself and Liv if he hadn't thought to check the files on his computer. And he had no idea how hard it must be for her to share the same space with him, knowing that he didn't remember her. This made Fitz more determined than ever to try to gain back his memories. And if that failed…to create new ones.

Liv watched Fitz walk away while signing papers for the legal aid and thought, _'I'm in trouble'_.

* * *

A firm knock on the front door startled Olivia out of her thoughts. Liv looked at her watch and saw that it read 4:30 a.m. She had only gotten to the cabin a few minutes ago, but it was still 'late' for visitors. Stretching, Liv pulled on a sweater and walked to the door. Opening it, she saw the one person she didn't expect to ever come to this door again.

"Hi," she said, hand clenching tightly on the doorknob. '_Definitely in trouble,'_ she thought.

"Hey," Fitz said, dressed casually in a sweater and jeans. "Do you mind if I come in?" he asked.

* * *

"What can I do for you, Mr. President?" Liv asked, not knowing what to do with herself. She was too jittery to sit, but having him here with her again, of all places, made her knees feel too wobbly to remain standing.

Fitz had come inside and settled himself on the sofa, the same spot she'd been sitting a few minutes ago. He looked up at Liv and had a strange sense of déjà vu, as if they'd been in this exact same position before. Only, in his memory, Liv was standing closer to him and she'd had on a deep red top with soft white pants. Fitz shook his head and the image faded, leaving Olivia still standing there with the clothes she wore now.

"You don't have to call me that, Liv," he said, putting his hand against his forehead. "You don't have to be formal with me."

Liv found herself stepping forward before she caught herself. "Of course I have to be formal with you sir," she replied. She put her hands behind her back and clasped them together. It was the only way to prevent herself from reaching for him. "You're the President. And I'm your Director of Communications," she finished lamely.

Fitz studied her. Dressed like she was, she seemed softer, more vulnerable. And he noticed things that he didn't see when she was telling him how he should stand and dress, what he should say. He noticed that there was a strain in her eyes when she looked at him and that she kept switching her weight between her feet. She looked…nervous, an emotion he hadn't seen in her since they met. That nervousness prompted him to stand and slowly approach her.

But when Fitz took a step forward, she took a step back. "Don't run from me," he said softly. At his words, her feet, disobeying her mental command, stayed rooted in the spot. When Fitz reached her, he slowly lifted his right hand and stroked her cheek softly.

She let him. "W-What are you doing?" she asked desperately. She needed him to stop. Because when they came together, it wasn't just about sex. It was more than that; it was about an emotional and soul- connection that neither could ignore.

"We were more than just president and employee, weren't we, Liv?" he asked, bringing his other arm around her waist to pull her closer.

Liv put her hands on his chest to push him away but her hands had other ideas, and instead, wrapped themselves around his shoulders.

"We loved each other," Fitz said as he watched her defenses fall. He watched her and saw how easy it must've been to fall in love with her. "Didn't we?" he asked, pushing her hair off of her face.

Liv looked at him and for the first time, since 'meeting' him again, felt at peace. In this cabin, at this moment, he was her Fitz again. So, she threw caution to the wind, at least for tonight, and allowed herself to let go.

Wrapping her hands around the back of his neck, she asked softly, "How did you know?"

Fitz grinned, glad that she admitted it. He confessed, "I found pictures of us on my computer. And in the photos, I looked happier than I could ever imagine being."

Liv snapped her head up. "What?! Destroy those photos immediately! You know better than to store evidence!" she said furiously.

Fitz pulled her hands back around his neck and said, "Obviously, I didn't. Don't worry, they are hidden on my computer and I am the only person who knows where they're stored."

"You still need to destroy them, Fitz," she said, letting her anger fade. Now that she thought about it, though, she figured it made sense. When he'd taken those photos of them, Liv had to admit to herself that some small part of her wanted him to keep them.

Fitz smiled at sound of his name from her lips. "Tell me about us," he pleaded.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

* * *

An hour and a bottle of wine later, Fitz and Liv were laughing on the couch. Liv was perched on his lap since Fitz had been unwilling to let her go and she hadn't been inclined to argue about it.

"_Pastor_ Drake?" Fitz asked again, laughing. He'd been heartbroken to hear that the great pastor had died, but listening to Liv's account of what happened behind the scenes astounded him.

"The _nation's_ pastor," she replied, remembering when she had had the exact same conversation with Fitz only a few short months ago. At that thought, Olivia's laughter died. _What if he never gained his memories back?_ Liv wondered.

Fitz, seeming to sense her change in mood, looked her in the eye and said eventually, "A penny for your thoughts?"

Liv lifted her hand to stroke her fingers through his hair while she composed her thoughts. She replied, "Just because you don't remember who we were together, it doesn't mean that you should feel obligated to just pick up where we left off." Liv took a deep breath and said, "If you want out…if you want time to figure things out or repair things with Mellie, I understa—"

Liv was cut off as a pair of warm, wonderfully familiar pair of lips fell against hers. Fitz wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him as the kiss deepened. To him, it felt like a piece of heaven had fallen into his lap, quite literally in fact.

And to her, it felt like she had finally come home.

Slowly drawing away, Fitz whispered, "Been wanting to do that all day." Olivia reached for his face and pulled it down to hers again. She cupped his cheeks and just held him, as if he was the most important person in her world, as if he was the most precious thing she possessed. 'He was…he _is_,' she thought as she continued to take his mouth with hers. As she tried desperately to tell Fitz how much she missed him, needed him, _loved_ him, through her lips.

"Even if you never get your memories back," she said, pulling away, "I still love you. I love you. I fell in love with your heart, with your intelligence and your innate goodness, Fitz. Those things haven't changed. I love you because you're idealistic and you see the good in everyone. I love you because you're brilliant and warm and I don't see anyone else. Only you, Fitz," she said.

"And I know this must seem strange to you since you only met me a week and a half ago, but I made a promise to you. I promised that I'd tell you how much I loved you if you would just wake up. And you did. So, don't feel pressured to respond in kind, Fitz," she smiled, caressing his face. "I'll wait. For as long as it takes, I will wait."

Tears started to fill Fitz's eyes as he realized he was about to have everything. His dreams were about to come true, even ones he hadn't thought of yet. And he owed all of it to the woman sitting in his lap. Pulling her impossibly closer, he whispered, "Promise?"

Nodding, Olivia kissed his nose and said, "Promise."

* * *

**Hope you guys enjoyed! I haven't decided if I want to end it here or not. Tune in tomorrow night at 10, I have to work so I won't see it until Friday. Happy reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Are you in love with the First Lady?" Tom asked Hal as they got off shift. They'd just finished their 8-hour shift guarding President Grant and Tom had been curious of Hal's behavior for some time now. Today, especially, as he watched Millicent Grant walk into the room, Tom could not help but notice the subtle change in Hal's stance, the almost silent intake of breath. Now seemed as good a time as any to voice his suspicions.

Hal's feet almost stopped in response, but he kept walking. Finding his voice, he tried to say calmly, "Of course not. Why would you even ask such a question?"

Tom replied, "Say it again, only try to sound more convincing this time."

As they turned a corner, Hal rounded on Tom. Glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard, Hal said, "I am loyal to my President above all. I took a sworn oath to give my life for his and I intend to uphold that oath for as long as I work here. To even consider that I could be in love with the man's wife is completely absurd," Hal finished, breathing heavily.

Tom just looked at him. If he'd simply said 'no' and left it at that, Tom might have believed him. But his vehement arguments to the contrary and his rapid pulse gave him away. Tom had stood at Hal's side for many years as they'd served various presidents, which made what he was about to say even harder. But it had to be said.

"First of all, the oath is something that all secret service agents assigned to the White House have to take, and no one is questioning your mettle. I believe that you will do what is necessary if the time comes around again to protect the president with your life. But as far as loyalty goes, you have proven yourself to be…flaky…when it comes to the POTUS.

"We both know that he is in love with Ms. Pope and has been involved with her for years, but I can only assume by your willingness to blab—

"I do **not** _blab_—," Hal started angrily

"About his indiscretions with Ms. Pope to Mrs. Grant can only mean that you are in love with her. Why else would you betray the president in this way?" Tom asked, still baffled whenever Hal gave a certain look to Mrs. Grant that told her what she'd wanted to know.

Hal stared at Tom and realized that he was tired of hiding the truth from him anyway and that there was no point in lying to his friend about the situation anymore. "It is not my job to support the president's relationship with his mistress," Hal started quietly. "It is wrong and immoral. He has a beautiful, smart wife at home and he chooses to spend time with that—"

"I'd be very careful what term you use next to describe Ms. Pope, Hal," Tom said, having heard enough. "It is not our job to judge the president or his actions in his private time. It is our job, however, to be loyal to him. You don't have to support his relationship with Ms. Pope. But you _are_ obligated to protect him from dangers abroad and domestic, and that includes, not just his physical safety, but his safety in all other areas as well.

"And no matter how much you may crush on the First Lady, the fact is, you don't know her. You know better than most how unhinged people can get when it comes to infidelity. How do you know that Mrs. Grant isn't responsible for the assassination attempt? How do you know she wouldn't try to poison his dinner or suffocate him in his sleep? While I respect her because of the position she holds, I have opened myself up to the _possibility_ that she could become a threat to the president, the man that I am supposed to protect above all others, including you.

"And if she had anything to do with the assassination attempt on the president…if she tried to have him killed because he was cheating on her, then you will have to live with the fact that the president was harmed on your watch, not because of some terrorist or hate group, but because his Secret Service agent couldn't keep his _mouth_ _shut_." Tom finished.

Stepping around Hal, Tom walked away, saddened that he had to be the one to remind him of his duty. Hal might not like what the president did behind closed doors, and that was fine. But when that dislike turned into actions that could threaten the president's very life, Tom could not let it go unanswered. He could not just let things lie the way that they were.

The fact that he was quietly rooting for the president to be with Ms. Pope was beside the point.

* * *

"Your numbers look good, Fitz," Liv whispered against Fitz's chest as she softly ran her hand through his chest hair.

Fitz smiled against the top of her head, feeling lighter than he'd felt in a long time. Stroking his fingers lightly down her arm, he asked, "So I've got a real shot at this?"

"You've got more than a shot at this," she replied, holding him even tighter. She loved his optimism and his idealism. But Liv didn't think that it had even occurred to him that the closer he got to the presidency, the closer he was to losing her.

They were at another city on the campaign trail and Liv had been seeing Fitz for over two months now. During the days, they worked vigorously on the campaign as they slowly made their way across the country. But their nights were filled with their cries and passion for one another. It was now, after another extremely intense round of lovemaking, that Liv felt she should point out their reality. And make her feelings known.

"Fitz?" she asked, pulling away to prop her face up on his chest.

Fitz looked down and rested his hands on her butt, pulling her closer into him. Staring into her eyes, he simply smiled and waited for her to get whatever's been bugging her off of her chest.

It was so strange. The more time Fitz spent around Olivia, the more he found himself in tune with her emotions. When she was frustrated about something, he picked up on it immediately. When she was happy with an outcome or had found the answer to a problem, Fitz knew it before she smiled. And when she was feeling…amorous…towards him, he could feel it, even if he was across the room, and Fitz would find a way to get her alone.

So, when she said his name, he knew that she was finally ready to voice whatever had been on her mind the past few days.

"I was wondering what I should do after you win," she started, pausing to kiss the center of his chest. She continued, "I could open a crisis management firm in D.C. or go back to my old job—"

Fitz flipped them over and pinned her, pulling her knee up so that it rested above his hip. Cupping her face, he said, "Liv…what the hell are you talking about?"

Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her leg around him. She said, "I'm talking about reality, Fitz. You know—surely you must know—that we can't continue to see each other once you move into the White House," she ended on a whisper.

Fitz's eyes widened then narrowed for a second before he said, "I don't see why not, Liv. We've been discreet—" Fitz began as his hands began to roam her body again.

"No, we haven't Fitz, not really," she interrupted, stroking his cheek. "We've slept in the same hotel rooms almost every night for the past two months, excluding the times Mellie stayed. It works now because no one is really paying attention to your personal activities. But when you are president, _everyone_ , including the Secret Service, will be paying attention to every single thing you do, ranging from which shaving cream you prefer to how often you work out.

"You won't _have_ a personal life, Fitz. Privacy will be one of the few luxuries you will not possess and I will not be the reason you fall, I _won't_ be the scandal that brings you to your knees," Liv finished as tears filled her eyes.

Fitz stopped to really grasp what she was saying and reached up to brush her tears away with his thumbs. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly for a few minutes, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. And as the kiss deepened, Liv began to relax and breathe again.

Fitz eventually pulled away and said, "Listen to me carefully, Liv. I. Am. Not. Letting. You. Go. So you can forget about going back to your old job or opening up a firm. We'll find a way to be together no matter how hard it might become. We will stay together," he whispered fiercely.

Liv looked at the determination in his expression and relaxed a little more. Over the past week or so, as she watched the numbers on the _'Election Day'_ countdown board draw to an end, she had begun to wonder what she would do without him. Every speech he made, every crowd he impressed, every handshake he gave…it made Olivia feel like she was slowly losing him. But as he told her that they would stay together, she felt her world tilt back on its correct axis again.

And that feeling of _rightness _made her afraid. No one had ever made her feel so shaken. No one had ever been so vital to her happiness. It was as if Fitz was only one thing to her:

Necessary.

So, she confessed to him a truth that she had suspected ever since the first moment his lips touched hers. "You are," Liv cleared her throat to try again. "You are…_everything_ that…everything that I could have ever _dreamed_ in," she stopped, choking on her words again. How could she tell this man how much he meant to her? It was entirely too soon. They barely knew enough about each other to make any declarations of love, but she had to make him understand.

"Every little girl dreams of having someone special, of having some fictional 'prince charming' in her life one day. Some girls hope that those men are just like their fathers, other girls dream that they be tall, dark, and handsome, like some mysterious stranger.

"But _you_, Fitz," Liv gasped out as he began to enter her so very, very slowly. "You are my dream," she finished quietly.

Breathing heavily, Liv watched Fitz's every movement as he intertwined her fingers with his and placed their joined hands above her head. Leaning down, he smiled and whispered against her mouth, "And you are mine."

* * *

Someone's phone was ringing.

Liv was shaken out of her sleep when she realized it was her phone that'd been ringing. "Olivia Pope," she answered groggily, still trying to shake off the remnants of her dream—of her memory—of Fitz and herself when they were still on the campaign trail.

"Are you alright?" Cyrus asked her as he hurried through the hall. He was making his way to the private residence in the White House because he'd received two different, but equally important, phone calls.

"Why wouldn't I be alright?" she asked him, getting out of bed so that she could bathe and get dressed. She looked at the clock and did a double take, shocked. She hadn't slept so late since she was a freshman in college.

"Because you never sleep this late," Cyrus said, echoing her thoughts. "Anyway, how soon can you get to the White House?" Cyrus asked her.

Everything in Olivia paused. "Why? What's wrong?" she asked.

"Two things. One, Fitz fell in the kitchen this morning and bumped his head. And while such a thing would, under normal circumstances, be irrelevant—"

"These aren't normal circumstances," Liv said, finishing his sentence.

"Precisely," Cyrus said, taking a deep breath. "I don't know if he's okay, I'm almost there."

Liv nodded but realized that he couldn't see her and said, "Okay. I'm on my way." But before hanging up, she put the phone back to her ear and asked, "Wait, what was the second thing?"

Cyrus didn't know whether to feel excited or apprehensive. He decided on trying not to feel anything at all, at least until Liv arrived on scene. He stated, "The cabinet has made a decision."

* * *

**Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long between my last update and this one, I tried to write this one as fast as possible, so it's a little short! But don't worry, I'll try to have the next chapter up by tomorrow-ish. It's going to be like 3 weeks before the new episode so I'll try to keep my story fresh and with plenty of Olitz to feed our withdrawl symptoms! For those of you taking final exams, good luck, and happy reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"If you weren't involved in politics, what would you do?" Liv asked Fitz as she lathered her hands with the bar of soap. Setting aside the soap, she began to methodically wash Fitz's thigh that poked out of the water.

Wrapping his arms around Olivia, Fitz rested his chin on top of her head as he watched her wash his leg in their shared bath. He replied, "I don't know."

Liv paused in her scrubbing. She tilted her head back to look up at him and said, "Oh come on, Fitz. There must be something, some other career that you've thought about pursuing, even if only for a moment." She smiled. "Tell me," she said, reaching up to wipe some soap off of his nose.

Fitz playfully leaned down to bite her bottom lip before saying, "I'm serious. For as long as I can remember, I have been groomed for this one thing, this one purpose. Every school I went to, every organization I joined, every job I took…it was all designed to get me here, to this moment. I'm only two weeks away from Election Day and there's a good chance that I'm going to win. I honestly haven't considered doing anything else outside of being president.

"And even if I do win and go on to serve an additional 4 years, I haven't even thought about what I'll do once I'm out of the White House. Should I write a book, Ms. Pope?" he asked, pulling her bottom tighter against him, "Shall I call it something deep and profound, like _'The Meaning of Life: Memoirs of a Former President'_?"

Olivia started laughing halfway through the title, finding it utterly ridiculous. She reached for the soap again only to have it snatched out of her hands by Fitz. After he lathered up his hands, he placed the bar aside again and began to slowly wash her arms, from the tops of her shoulders all the way to each individual finger. Olivia barely stifled the shiver that crawled up her spine.

"I think you should think about it," Liv gasped out as Fitz's hands disappeared beneath the water.

He asked, distracted, "Think about what?" The woman was moaning and writhing in his lap and she wanted him to form coherent thoughts? She wanted him to string together a bunch of words that resembled a sentence? _'She gives me too much credit,'_ he thought.

Olivia grabbed Fitz's hands and placed them on the edge of the tub so that she could think. There was something she was about to say…what was it?

"Umm," she said stupidly as Fitz began to trail lingering kisses down the side of her neck. "You should think about what you're going to do after your presidency, Fitz," Liv said, finally remembering what she'd wanted to tell him. "Something that drives you, something you think you'll enjoy. If you sit at home all day or decide to play golf, it'll drive you up the wall," she finished, deciding to pull his fingers back around her waist as she leaned her head back on his shoulder.

Fitz released her neck in favor of drawing circles on her navel with his thumb. He said, jokingly, "Do women always think so far ahead in the future? That kind of planning must be _exhausting_."

Liv turned around in his arms and bit his lip this time. She kissed him to soothe away the sting before saying, "I'll show you 'exhausting', Dr. Grant."

Fitz looked at Olivia and wondered what good deed he could have possibly done to receive such a treasure as this woman in his arms. She was intelligent and heart-stoppingly beautiful. She was funny and strong and sexy.

But what he loved most about her was that she allowed him to see her vulnerable and truly open. To the rest of the world, she seemed cold, analytical, and almost detached from her surroundings. But Fitz was one of the few privileged human beings to see her laugh uninhibited or admit her feelings to him with her heart on her sleeve. One such instance was when she'd said a few days ago after a deliciously kinky lovemaking session, _'I love your voice. It is, literally, my favorite sound in the world. I could listen to you speak for hours, days, years, and never tire of the sound'._ It made him feel honored.

Humbled.

"Dr?" he asked her now, picking her up and lifting them both out of the water. As he carried her to the bed of their hotel room, he said, "I like the sound of that."

* * *

"Fitz?!" someone was shouting in his ear. But instead of the lovely, breathy sound of Olivia's voice when she called his name, he heard a different, slightly annoying voice instead. Fitz opened his eyes to see Mellie standing over him, holding a cold rag across his forehead.

Fitz sat up quickly and looked around him. "What happened?" he asked, somewhat disoriented. One minute he was in a hotel room, swallowing Olivia's cries as she came around him, and the next, he was on the cold floor in the kitchen.

Mellie said, "Don't sit up too fast! You bumped your head on the floor when you fell." Mellie was wringing her hands. It was all her fault. She had spilled some water earlier but her pregnancy did not allow her the same ease she used to possess when it came to bending over to wipe something up or pick something up off of the ground. In her defense, she didn't think he'd come into the kitchen since he had staff to get him whatever he needed.

When she heard him fall, her first thought was for his safety. Her second thought, however, was for the presidency. He wouldn't lose all the ground he'd already covered with his memories, would he? What if he reverted back to that first day he woke up in the hospital?

Fitz got off the floor and slowly made his way over to the couch in the living room. Sitting down, he leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. The whole time, Mellie followed after him, making sure he was acting normal. After watching him for a few minutes just breathe in and out, she said, "I called Cyrus a while ago so he should be here any minute." After she still didn't get a response or even an acknowledgement from him that she was even _in the room_, Mellie said angrily, "Fitz? Did you hear what I just said?"

"I heard you," he replied as he touched his lips with his fingers. He could still feel her lingering there, which was ridiculous. Because according to the timeline he'd forgotten, that kiss would've happened almost three years ago.

"Thanks," Fitz said, belatedly, after he realized Mellie was still standing over him.

"Ugghh!" Mellie sighed, throwing her hands in the air. She turned around to leave the room while muttering, "I could have been a lawyer, fighting cases this very moment. But _nooooo_, I have to babysit my brain-dysfunctional _husband_…"

True to her word, a few minutes later, Cyrus opened the door and walked over to Fitz. "How are you feeling, sir?" he asked, genuine worry in his voice and his expression.

Fitz touched his shoulder and said, "I'm fine, Cy—"

"No dizziness, nausea, or pain anywhere?" Cyrus asked, wanting to be sure. They could not afford a setback in his bid for the presidency, but more importantly, Cyrus wanted to make sure that he would be okay. That his brain had ample healing time to remember the things he needed to remember; not for his position of power, but for his own sanity and happiness. Cyrus didn't approve of Fitz's relationship with Olivia when he first found out about them, but he couldn't imagine what it would be like if he'd forgotten someone that he loved with all his heart.

If he never remembered them again.

That, in and of itself, was its own brand of torture and Cyrus wouldn't wish that kind of curse on his worst enemies…actually, that's a lie. He would definitely wish that kind of thing on his worst enemies.

"I'm fine, Cy. I promise," Fitz said again, shaking his head. He didn't know if he was ready to tell Cyrus that some of his memories were coming back. A part of him wanted to rejoice in the fact and announce it to the public. While another part of him wanted to keep the memories private and play his cards close to his chest for a while.

It had recently occurred to Fitz that his memory loss could serve as a major advantage. As his memories began to re-emerge, he had the opportunity to observe the behaviors of those around him and compare them with how they behaved during the five years he'd lost. His theory wouldn't work on someone like Olivia since he did not know her pre-anniversary dinner, but for the rest of his family, friends, and colleagues, it could become an invaluable tool.

"The cabinet has come to a decision, Fitz," Cyrus said, sitting down next to him on the couch. "I called Liv and she's on her way here," Fitz's heart jumped at that announcement, "You have to get changed and meet Sally Langston downstairs in the Oval," Cyrus concluded.

Mellie took a deep breath before saying, "Why is Olivia coming? There's nothing more she can do that will influence the decision, is there?" Olivia had done her part. And win or lose, her services were no longer required. Why couldn't they see that? Why couldn't they see that they did not need Olivia Pope's approval in order to take their next breath?

"In any case," she continued, "I'm going to the bathroom, yet again. I'll be glad when my bladder becomes my own again and not a ball for the baby to bounce on." Mellie turned and left the room, leaving the two men still sitting there, staring at her, dumbfounded.

Fitz still hadn't gotten up yet. He was excited to hear from the cabinet but something made him pause. Something made him _feel_ as though he should want Langston to remain president. Why? And, if he'd been president for three years already, why did he see nothing—in either his research or other findings—which suggested that he planned to run for a second term? Becoming the President of the United States was the one thing that he'd strived for ever since he was a child. Why did all the evidence point to the fact that his priorities had shifted?

"Fitz? What's wrong?" Cyrus asked. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Fitz looked at Cyrus and was about to speak when Olivia walked in, worry etched on her face. And Fitz's heart stopped.

"Are you alright?" she asked him directly, rushing over to stand before him. She clenched her hands into fists to stop herself from throwing her arms around him and covering his face in kisses.

Fitz stood and told her, "Don't worry. I'm fine, Livy." Fitz stared at her clenched fists and realized that they mirrored his own fists as he tried not to pull her against him.

Cyrus looked back and forth between them for a couple of seconds before he stood and said, "I'll wait for you outside."

After Cyrus closed the door, Fitz moved towards her, even as she took steps back, trying desperately to put distance between them. Liv was forced to stop when she bumped into the wall and it was then that he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. Liv, voice shaking slightly, said, "I'm glad you're okay—"

"You are so beautiful," he said simply, stopping her. Fitz lifted his other hand to grab a handful of her hair, tugging a little until she tilted her head back. The movement gave him better access as he leaned down and brushed his lips so lightly against hers that she barely felt it.

Liv couldn't help it when her hands grabbed his sides and reached around the expanse of his back. The thing was, Fitz was looking at her like he used to look at her—not when they'd first met, but the same way he looked at her with the years of history they had together. Like he _knew_ her, inside and out. Liv's breath caught. _Did he remember?_

"Fitz?" she whispered.

"Bits and pieces of _us_ are coming back to me, even when no other memories have surfaced. I remember how we were together. That you trusted me enough to let me in. I remember that when we came together, the ground shifted," he said, brushing his lips against her cheek and her jaw before coming back up. "And I think…I think that my priorities _did_ shift, Livy. Didn't they?" he asked.

Liv was shaking. This was the very thing she was trying to _avoid_. When the cabinet reinstated him—and they would—then they would be right back where they started. He would be the president and she would be the fixer. She'd stay to help him settle in and write his speeches but then she'd have to leave because she couldn't watch him with Mellie anymore and she couldn't stand being the one who only got to be with him at night.

In the dark.

Because they were most definitely in the dark. Not the light, not where others could see and witness how very much in love she was with this man.

"We don't have time for this, Fitz," she said as she tightened her hands around his back. "They're waiting for you—"

"Let them wait," he said. Fitz brought his other hand up to cup her face and pulled her face back up to his as he made out with her against the wall. He thoroughly tasted her mouth and slowly sucked on her tongue, as if there wasn't a boardroom full of people waiting to announce their decision, as if the President of the United States wasn't waiting on him to meet her in the Oval.

A silent tear escaped Liv's eye and she kissed him back with all the unsaid things between them. With all of the love and trust and passion she held for him in her heart. With her regret for ever leaving him in the first place.

When she tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, she begged him to forgive her for Edison. When she thrust both hands into his hair, she told him she'd never push him away again. And when she stroked his cheek with the pads of her fingers, she promised that she was _his_.

But all the while they were lost in each other, lost in their own world, Mellie stood in the doorway, shocked at what she'd walked in on. She had never seen Liv and Fitz together in a romantic capacity. Mellie had only witnessed Fitz's longing looks at Olivia and Liv's surreptitious glances at Fitz. Mellie knew that they were sleeping together years ago, had even condoned it, but she had never seen them hug or hold hands.

Or kiss.

And the kiss she was witnessing broke her heart. It made Mellie feel like _she_ was the intruder on a private moment between two people who loved each other. Like _she_ was the one who didn't belong there.

So all her dreams of finally stealing Fitz back from Olivia and having a shot with Fitz flew out the window. As far as Fitz knew, he'd just met Olivia _days_ ago. She was still a stranger to him. But if she could call this kind of passion from him when he didn't even remember who she was, Mellie knew that she no longer had a chance. She might have had a chance a decade ago. Before they grew apart and started arguing all the time. Before she pushed him away with her anger and resentment and hopeless attitude towards their marriage.

As Mellie stood witness to the reason why Fitz wouldn't just 'get over her' or let her go, Mellie finally admitted that she'd lost him. And that if he could be taken from her, then he wasn't really hers to begin with. Mellie straightened her back and found the strength to turn around. She could've cleared her throat and interrupted them. She could have yelled and thrown things and made a big fuss. Instead, she silently walked away.

* * *

Fitz walked into the Oval Office after Liv finally made him get dressed. His lips still ached from their kiss, but it was a good ache. It reminded him every passing second of the woman who made him feel alive and nervous and shaky.

And _happy_.

He'd gotten shot in the head, yet he was walking around as if he was on cloud nine. Fitz shook his head, smiling again.

"Madame President, it's great to be here," Fitz said, extending his hand for her to shake. Sally Langston's hesitation was so slight that Fitz wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking for it.

"A pleasure, as always, Mr…Grant," Sally replied, motioning for him to be seated. "I was most relieved to hear that you woke up and I just want to assure you that I will continue to serve my country to the fullest of my ability," she finished.

They had met in the Oval Office later that morning as they both waited to hear from the cabinet about whether or not Sally Langston would remain the acting president or if they deemed Fitz capable of taking back the position.

"I did not doubt it for a moment, Madame President," Fitz said, smiling at her. Honestly, Fitz was having a hard time laughing. The president obviously did not particularly like or respect him but she was trying so hard not to show it that Fitz had to give her points for effort.

"While I am glad that you survived your assassination attempt in one piece, I must say I am quite disappointed that we did not get to attend that lovely funeral Ms. Pope had planned for you. I, for one, was looking forward to—"

"Funeral?" Fitz interrupted, shocked that this woman had the audacity to talk about his death so casually, as if his funeral would be the social event of the season as opposed to a day that marked the passing of a United States President.

Sally looked at him with a confused expression. She said, "Well of course! You didn't expect that we'd all wait on pins and needles, did you? That first week after you were shot was definitely touch and go, and the last few weeks left the country in a state of _'unfinished business'_, or _'limbo'_, if you will. The country needed closure. They needed to move on.

"In fact, we all needed to feel as though we were doing something for you. So, I asked Ms. Pope to take over the plans for your funeral, and she really took the reins on the project. The woman is the kind of strategist anyone would be fortunate to have, and I wish I could just steal her away from your administration!" Sally said, laughing. _'Over my cold, dead body,'_ Fitz thought. "But I digress. That is neither here nor there and we can discuss your staff after we hear the cabinet's decision," she finished confidently, sitting back on the couch.

Fitz, however, was still reeling. Olivia had planned his funeral? Why? Why hadn't that task fallen to Mellie, his wife? And at what cost did she have to pay in order to resign herself to burying him, to saying goodbye one final time? Fitz rubbed his chest as he thought of what she must've gone through these past weeks.

"Do you still have the funeral plans?" he asked Langston.

* * *

Cyrus, Mellie and Olivia waited.

They stood and they waited outside the Oval. All of them shared varying levels of anxiety but they did not speak or hold hands. You could hear a pin drop, it was so quiet in the lobby outside the Oval. Finally, after an eternity, the door opened and Langston stepped out, followed by Fitz. Liv stood and looked at Fitz. She watched him smile a genuine, happy smile while Sally had a very serene, very insane smile on her own face.

Liv knew what had happened. She'd predicted it according to her gut, and although her gut had been acting up ever since she handed Fitz her resignation letter three years ago, she knew it would be right this time.

Fitz had won.

As Liv watched Sally leave the lobby with dignity, her head held high, she gained a new level of respect for the woman. But Olivia couldn't help the pang of hurt that hit her chest when she realized that she'd hoped he wouldn't win. That he could be a normal person again and maybe they could have a chance to be together without scandal, without publicity. That he'd remember her, remember _them_ and decide that it was time to step down.

In no way did she blame Fitz, but she still couldn't help but feel a little sad that their dream was slipping away from them yet again.

She turned and saw that Fitz was looking at her over Mellie's shoulder as he hugged her. Fitz mouthed, 'We did it' and Liv couldn't help but smile back in return. That smile made it all worth it. His happiness was the reason why she'd agreed to help rig the election in the first place. That same smile made all the pain and loneliness she'd feel in the upcoming weeks a lot more bearable.

_Definitely worth it_, she thought.

* * *

**Hey guys, sorry it took so long for an update, but I wanted it to be good. Review it please!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it's been so long, I had writer's block. Enjoy!**

Chapter 8

"I want to see you everyday—"

"Twice a week—"

"Twice a day," Fitz countered. "And each meal time," he suggested innocently.

Liv couldn't help the smile that went across her face. Fitz had called her to the Oval under the guise of going over his next presidential address, but the way he was casually spread across the sofa was her first clue that he hadn't called her up for that.

And ever since he was reinstated as president, he'd had the Oval Office cameras disabled between the hours of 3 and 4p.m. every day. "Mr. President, the trick to negotiating is that you go _down_, not _up_ on the price until both parties reach a comp-promise," Liv stuttered as he came closer to her. "You're not supposed to make the terms _more_ unreasonable, but less."

Fitz kissed her hard. Pulling away, he said, "Is that how negotiation works? Perhaps you should tutor me," he said, smiling. "And I don't think my terms are unreasonable. They are entirely fair, if you ask my opinion—"

Liv cut in dryly, "Oh, you mean your completely _unbiased_ opinion?"

"Any negotiation expert would agree—" Fitz continued to speak over her.

"Yes, any experts that also happen to consider themselves Olitz fans," she cut in again.

Fitz looked at her and decided not to fight her about this. Besides, he knew Liv. She might agree to only seeing him half the week, but she was as addicted to his presence as he was to hers, so he could…persuade…her using other methods.

"Fine," he conceded. "Four times a week, _minimum_, and you get an untraceable cell that I can use to call and text you on the days I can't see you," he replied. "I almost died, Livy. I'm not wasting another second away from you if I don't have to," he said, absolutely serious.

Liv's smile was slightly wobbly as she wondered if she should agree. She didn't want to spend any time away from him either, but what other choice did they have? He had a country to run and she had a business to run, one that was swarming with clients ever since she'd acted as Press Secretary while Fitz was still in critical condition.

She was glad that Fitz hadn't asked her to quit her job at OPA again and come back to work full-time at the White House, though he'd wanted to. He knew how much she loved her work and that the associates at OPA depended on her.

"Deal," she said, quickly wiping her lipstick off his mouth with her thumb. She then smoothed her fingers through his hair to straighten it, careful of his scar. His hair had eventually grown over the scar but she knew exactly where it was and always kissed it before she left.

That scar was a reminder.

Every time she touched him, that scar reminded her that life was too short to waste on games or pushing him away. He was too vital to her sanity, too important to her well-being. That scar told her that they were given a second chance and Olivia took fast hold to that chance, knowing it was nothing short of a miracle that he was even alive.

"I won't take you for granted again," she said suddenly, imploring him to believe her.

Fitz's smile fell at the seriousness of her words and he opened his mouth to speak just as Cyrus opened the door.

Strangely enough, Fitz's hands had stayed wrapped around Olivia's waist and her hands had stayed on his face. Since the shooting, both of them had become a lot more reckless in their relationship, neither caring as much about image and public perception.

Cyrus, however, thought that that was stupid.

The last time he'd walked in on them in the Oval, they had jumped apart from each other. But Cyrus much preferred that reaction than this, _'I don't care who just walked in the room because I'm too wrapped up in your gaze' _nonsense. What if it had been Fitz's secretary? Or Mellie? Or the Vice President, for goodness' sake?

"You might want to be more discreet when someone walks in the room, guys," Cyrus said, sitting in the chair next to them.

Fitz was the first to look away as he answered Cy, saying, "What?"

"There's loads of things that the American people will forgive you for since someone put three bullets in you. You could show up to work one day in casual clothing or skip a few press appearances. After all, you were shot, so you get a break for _those_ things. But sleeping with your former-slash-current employee? I imagine that won't go over too well if it's mentioned on the 11 o'clock news," Cyrus finished.

Liv actually agreed with Cy but couldn't stop herself from kissing Fitz's scar briefly before leaving the room.

"What's up?" Fitz asked, settling back in his chair. He hadn't been this content in…well, ever. He smiled as he again looked at the door Liv just vacated.

"We need to discuss this policy and I have this for you to read at your leisure," Cyrus dropped a stack of papers that looked to be thicker than a novel, saying, "And by leisure, I mean that it needs to be read by Wednesday so that you can have an answer to the proposed bill by Friday at the latest."

"We're not sleeping together," Fitz said absent-mindedly.

"Excuse me, sir?" Cyrus asked. He loved Liv like a daughter, so he had no desire to talk about her sex life.

"We aren't having sex like you implied," Fitz said again, rubbing his eyes. Unfortunately, Fitz didn't know the last time he'd been with anyone, but he wanted, desperately, to be with Livy.

"I think she's afraid I'll have a heart attack or something," Fitz said, drawing Cyrus deeper into a conversation he didn't want to be in. Cyrus stood and gathered the papers, headed towards the door. Before he left, he turned and said, "I'll only give this advice once, and once only. Show her that you're strong, that you're not glass. You won't break. And take her away from here, otherwise, you won't get more than a few moments alone with her. I'm sure she misses you as much as you do her, and that is most definitely the end of this discussion," Cyrus finished, leaving the Oval.

Fitz smiled at the door and began to make plans.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Olivia asked as she closed the door behind her. She hadn't seen Fitz since yesterday morning and she needed to check in with him to make sure that he was alright.

Fitz was sitting behind the desk in his private office but stopped working as soon as Liv walked through the door. There was nothing on his desk more important than the woman in front of him. Standing, he strode around his desk to meet her.

"How many times are you going to ask me that? It's been a month," he said, lifting her up as he kissed her soundly.

Liv was amazed at the fact that she was so happy. It was an inner joy that she hadn't felt since she left the White House, left him. It was a happiness that she only felt when she was in his arms.

Liv found herself perched on Fitz's lap in one of his side chairs when he briefly pulled away to say, "Hi"

She chased his mouth and pressed her lips against his again for several minutes, unwilling to let him go just yet. Fitz laughed quietly as he slowly made his way across her jaw and down her neck. Trying to catch her breath, Liv, tightening her grip on his hair, said, "Hi,"

"I'm fine," Fitz said, finally feeling her relax. He shook his head. Every time he picked her up or held her in his lap, Liv would complain that she was too heavy or he wasn't strong enough yet. Frankly, he was anxious to prove to her otherwise.

"Come with me to Camp David tonight," he whispered against her hair. "We'll stay in our old cabin," he finished.

Liv stopped breathing for a second. Pulling back to look him in the eye, she asked tentatively, "Our old cabin?"

Fitz turned serious as he told her, "I remember."

She was too afraid to hope, but more afraid not to. Liv swallowed before asking, "What do you remember about us?"

"_Everything_," he answered immediately. Fitz stroked his thumb across her mouth and said, "I remember how we met. I remember falling in love with you. I remember that there's this spot under your jaw that is particularly sensitive…" He stopped talking to kiss that spot and felt her shiver against him. Smiling against her skin, he continued, "I remember what we were like when we came together…like lightning on a rainless night," he said, making his way down her throat and across her clavicle.

Livy was finding it hard to breathe. Not just because of the things that he was saying to her but because she finally had _her_ Fitz back. She would have loved him anyway, even if he'd never remembered who they were to each other; but the fact that he now remembered, it changed things. It made her feel like her whole world was right again.

"Rest assured, Livy, that the only reason you're not naked right now is because I don't want our first time together—and tonight _will_ be a first, of sorts, for us—to be on my desk. Although my desk is sturdy, we'd have to rush and I don't want to rush," he said, making his way back to her mouth. "And while it would be convenient, it wouldn't be comfortable. And I really, _really_ want you to be comfortable, honey."

Liv's heart melted at the endearment. He used them so rarely, but when he did, it made her feel so feminine, so cherished by him. Olivia opened her mouth to ask, _"Why can't we use this chair?"_ but Fitz captured her lips again in a kiss that branded her as his. Liv whimpered against his lips and was starting to pull on his tie while simultaneously pushing his jacket off his shoulders, when there was a knock on the door.

"Story of our lives," Fitz said against her neck as Liv, regretfully, stood up from his lap. She stood on shaky legs and tried to quickly fix her appearance. Glancing up at Fitz, she said softly, "What time are we leaving?"

* * *

Liv and Fitz had shown up at Camp David less than ten minutes ago and she felt a warm echo of the memories they'd made there. They'd considered this cabin to be theirs. He'd first told her his true feelings about his complicated relationship with his father at this cabin. They'd had their first real argument here. And their first make-up sex.

It was at this cabin that she'd had her first pregnancy scare. But Fitz had been so supportive, vowing to resign from the presidency immediately if she'd been pregnant. It surprised and saddened them both to find out that she wasn't pregnant, and Liv had to be the one to cheer Fitz up, saying, "One day, I'll allow myself to dream of having children with you. When the time is right. When it's _our_ time," she said, kissing him softly.

Liv was brought out of her memories by a pair of warm, perfect hands at her waist.

"Having second thoughts?" Fitz asked as he backed her against the living room sofa.

"No, of course not," she replied, "It's just…you're the president, Fitz. The president who recently recovered from an assassination attempt, might I add," Liv said, breathless. For the past thirty days, Olivia had been concerned with one thing and one thing only: Fitz's health. She had been going to OPA less and less often; she'd cancelled many of her appointments and had basically moved in at Camp David so that she could help Fitz recover. When he'd gone back to the White House, she mourned losing the alone time she'd had with him, but she also knew that it was for the best. The sooner he could move back into the Oval, the better off the country would be.

It wasn't until earlier, when they'd talked in his office, however, that she'd had any thought about sex. And not just the meaningless act of scratching an itch, but sex with the man that she loved above all others, the one person she loved more than any other being on earth. Sex with the man who she compared all other men to, the man that she hadn't been with since the National Archives building almost 1,095 days ago.

Liv's heart rate began to pick up and she tried, half-heartedly, to talk some sense into Fitz. "But it hasn't been that long since someone tried to kill you, Fitz. What if you hurt yoursel—"

Liv was cut off by Fitz's breath across her mouth. "There are a few things that I can't do yet," Fitz began as he started to pull the pins out of her hair and toss them to the floor. "Eat a steak. Run a marathon. Have a glass of bourbon. But this," he said, cupping her cheeks and pulling her face closer to his, "Make love to you…_this_ I can do."

Liv responded by wrapping her arms around his waist when tears started to fill her eyes. "I love you," she replied simply. "You were broken on that operating table, and I…I don't want you to be hurt again," she said, stroking his nose with her own.

Fitz smiled and said, "When are you going to get it through that beautiful head of yours?" He brushed his lips lightly against hers and whispered, "You're the only thing that can fix me."

Olivia didn't know who reached for who first, and she didn't care. She just knew that she had to get as close to him as possible. He needed this as much as she did, needed to feel the closeness and the love that she'd robbed them both of the moment she wrote that resignation letter. Fitz lifted her and Liv decided that she wouldn't let her worries and fears about his health mar this time they had together. He would be okay.

She pulled away at the realization, saying, "You really are okay."

"Yes, Liv. I'm fine," he assured her quickly before pulling her head down again to meet his.

She literally tried to devour his mouth as he made his way to their old bedroom and placed her gently on the bed. In between kisses, she said, "I'm sorry. Sorry for Edison. Sorry for the deal I made with Mellie. And for writing that stupid letter and leaving it on your desk," she finished.

Fitz paused to say, "First, that will be the last time you mention his name again in our bed. Second, I forgave you for it a long time ago. And third, it's _our_ desk. We made it ours the night of the Inaugural Balls, remember?" Fitz cupped her cheeks and said, "It's forgiven. It's forgotten."

He kissed her once more before saying, "_I'm_ sorry. Sorry for not waiting for you and for letting my father bully me into marrying Millicent. I'm sorry for Amanda. I'm sorry that you had to plan my funeral, and most of all, I am sorry that I let you go," he finished.

Liv listened and a weight lifted from her chest. They were beginning anew this night. "Firstly, _that_ will be the last time you mention Mellie or Amanda's names when we're in bed together. It's non-negotiable. Second, you couldn't know the future, and, right or wrong, I am glad to have met you at all in this lifetime than to have continued to live without you, no matter how unfortunate our circumstances are. Third, I'll forgive you if you promise to never let me go again, no matter how much I—"

"I won't ever let you go again," Fitz said, sealing the deal with a kiss.

Liv gazed at him and said, "Then it's forgiven. It's forgotten."

* * *

**Hello all! Hope you liked the Olitz reference, lol. Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**Warning:**

**This chapter is rated M for Mature.**

**Gladiators, this is my first attempt at writing a love scene between Olitz all the way through, so I hope it's not too awkward! It is a continuation of Chapter 8 since it took so long for me to write and edit. Please review.**

"Take off your clothes," he said, echoing the statement he'd made to her in that hotel room so long ago. Liv's fingers shook as she unbuttoned her blouse and let it slide to the floor. She then kicked off her heels and became several inches shorter as she unzipped her pants. Letting them slide to the floor, she kicked them off and watched Fitz watch her.

She started to unhook her bra, but Fitz's hands beat her to it and he pulled the bra off of her, tossing it to the pile.

Before he could tell her to get on the bed, Liv lifted one leg back and inched backwards onto the bed. She kept staring at him as she moved to remove her panties, but Fitz stopped her, saying, "Leave them."

Olivia removed her hands and just watched him breathe in and out. It was so surreal that they were here together when barely a month ago, she thought she'd never see him again, let alone make love to him again. Fitz began to unbutton his shirt.

"Lie back against the pillows and put your hands above your head, Livy," Fitz said as he reached the last button on his shirt before taking it off. "And leave them there until I say otherwise."

Olivia immediately obeyed, still feeling slightly self-conscious. She was essentially naked on the bed, while he stood over her, still mostly clothed. And the position of her arms made her back arch automatically.

Fitz's eyes darkened and he cursed himself for wanting to go slow. But he knew that if he took her the way he wanted to—fast and a little rough—it would be over far too quickly, for the both of them.

"Fitz?" Liv called out, wondering why he just stood there with clenched fists when she could see the erection lining his pants.

Fitz kicked off his shoes and socks before reaching for her ankle with one hand. He lifted her foot and began to kiss her instep, inching forward up her calf. He stopped briefly at the spot in the back of her knee, knowing she was ticklish there.

'_He plans to torture me to death'_ Liv thought as Fitz slowly inched his lips up her thigh. Tragically, he skipped over her panties and began to kiss her navel and move forward. He dragged his tongue across her sternum before surging forward to claim Liv's mouth.

Olivia immediately wrapped both legs around his waist and tried to pull him closer with her grip on the back of his neck. Fitz allowed it for a moment, lost in the sensation from her mouth, but then pulled back to say, "Hands."

Liv yanked his head back down and tried to swallow his tongue again, but before she could, she felt him go still. Liv opened her eyes to see that he had completely frozen, but had a smirk on his face.

"Fitz, honey, please move," Liv found herself pleading, arching up into his chest.

Fitz gently nipped her lower lip before he lifted one eyebrow and just waited. Olivia blew out a breath and put her arms over her head again, accusing, "Tease."

Fitz chuckled softly before plopping one nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. Liv cried out and arched her back, trying desperately to get closer. Fitz pulled and tugged and nibbled until Liv was begging him to stop.

He released her breast only to blow warm air across her chest. Liv's eyes rolled back in her head and she thought, _'Enough'._

Liv began ripping at Fitz's belt buckle but he grasped her wrists in one of his hands and placed them over her head again. "For such a brilliant woman," he said, his breathing ragged, "You are terrible at following the simplest of directions."

"Baby, I love you, but if you don't come inside me soon, I might have to kill you," Liv said, rubbing her foot up the back of his calf—an action that would've been more effective had he taken his pants off!

Fitz murmured against her mouth, "It'll be worth the wait, Livy, I promise." He released her wrists again to climb off the bed and start on her other ankle. "Trust me," he said against her leg.

Liv let go of the breath she was holding and relaxed a little. She was so desperate for him, but if he wanted slow, then he could have slow. She even had to admit that she liked slow, if not for the fact that she was only seconds away from coming and he hadn't even taken off her underwear yet.

By the time Fitz had made his way up her body a second time and was currently feasting on Liv's other breast, he was hanging by a thread. The way she moved against him and the sounds she was making as she said his name over and over again were driving him crazy. Fitz found himself unconsciously pumping his hips against her, and didn't realize until after she screamed his name as she came that he had been angling against her clitoris over and over again.

Fitz kissed her again before leaving the bed to remove the rest of his clothes. Liv's eyes slowly opened again and she relished the sight. It'd been forever since she'd seen him naked since their last few couplings had been in public, like the National Archives building and coat closets. It was a sight she missed terribly. She smiled up at him as she asked hoarsely, "Can I have you _now_?"

'_Why did she have to sound so eager?'_ Fitz thought, feeling himself harden even further at her words.

"Yes," he hissed out, climbing back onto the bed to grip both sides of her hips. He started to pull on the material but he realized that as soon as there was nothing between them, it'd be almost impossible to maintain any semblance of control.

Fitz, hands still tangled in the lace of her panties, closed his eyes and began to count to ten. But the longer it took for him to take her, the more restless Liv became in his arms.

"Stop squirming," Fitz said firmly and she immediately stopped moving, breathing heavily. But when he still didn't move—when his grip on her underwear only tightened, Liv began to squirm again.

"Fitz," she whined out, only to see his head snap up. And what she saw made her gasp. He had the most animalistic expression on his face that she'd ever seen, and her channel flooded at what that would mean for her.

Olivia thought that he would rip off her underwear, but that wasn't the case. He held her stare as he pulled her panties off at a snail-like pace. By the time he reached her ankles and tossed her underwear aside like the most annoying piece of material that it was, Liv could hardly contain the whimper that escaped.

Fitz caught Liv's knee in his hand and lifted it high above his waist. He then dragged her other thigh along his other side. He stroked her from her shoulder to her knee while his other hand cupped her cheek and pressed his lips close to hers. "I love you," he said softly as he slowly, slowly pushed in.

She was so tight that it was all Fitz could do to not simply spill inside her right then. He paused a few moments to gather the last of his strength and his jaw clenched as he gained a control that he didn't think he possessed. Liv's legs shook as Fitz pushed deeper and deeper into her channel. Never losing eye contact, he connected their mouths again and swallowed her cries until he was fully seated inside her. They breathed together as they felt that…_oneness_…that had been missing from their lives for almost three years.

Fitz stayed still for a few moments as she continued to grip him rhythmically. He couldn't seem to stop touching her, his hands greedy for her skin. From her breasts to her stomach and then her thighs, his hands traveled and mapped territory that he knew well but never got tired of looking at. Even if he'd been given a week to explore her, it wouldn't be enough time to properly get her out of his system.

But then, if he was honest with himself, an eternity wouldn't be enough time, either.

Liv was becoming increasingly frustrated. She'd tried to obey him by keeping her arms locked in place. She'd _really_ tried. But he knew how much it drove her wild when he'd enter her but refuse to move. So, if he wanted to be a tease, two could play at that game. Concentrating on the feel of him, Liv squeezed him tightly. Then, she did it again.

His fingers shook as they bit into her waist. "Stop that," he said harshly.

"Stop what?" Liv asked innocently, doing it again. To add insult to injury, she began to pant his name each time she gripped him, knowing how much that drove him crazy. She could feel herself growing even wetter at the look in his eyes, for she knew that look. It was the look of payback.

Of retribution.

Fitz leaned down to suck her lip into his mouth as he slowly pulled all the way out. Then, he forcefully slammed his way back inside and Liv lost it, screaming into his mouth. Then, he did it again.

And again.

Fitz pushed them further up the bed as he grinded into her, riding her through her orgasm. He felt his control snap, however, when she raised herself up and bit the side of his neck, sucking on the mark she'd made. Releasing her legs, he gripped Liv's butt to lift her, changing the angle of his thrusts and just let himself go. At the change, Liv silently screamed as her muscles clamped down forcefully on Fitz, coming around him again.

She tried to pull away, to get some relief from his relentless pursuit, but Fitz simply growled and yanked her back down, maintaining a firm grip on her hips as he pounded roughly into her. "Fitz, please," she sobbed, not really knowing what she was begging from him. She wanted him to stop.

No, she _never_ wanted him to stop.

This man shattered her. From the moment they met, he had been a tsunami that rushed into her life, unexpected and devastating. But he'd also showed her a love that she didn't think was possible in real life, a love that defied all logic and expectation. She saw his scars from the multiple surgeries he'd had and began to kiss each one, forever grateful to the surgeons who helped save his life.

Because it wasn't just about the sex, it was about sharing her soul with him, this man that she couldn't let go, that she couldn't live without even though she'd tried. She trusted him with every part of her, allowing herself to be completely open and vulnerable because Liv trusted that he'd never abuse the absolute power he held over her.

Liv reached down and gripped the firm muscles of his butt tightly as she lifted her hips to try to hopelessly match his unforgiving pace. She knew by the uncontrolled rhythm of his hips that he was close, so she raised herself up to tongue his right nipple, and bit down gently.

Fitz threw his head back and roared, releasing himself deep inside her. At the first touch of his release, Liv came again and cried out with him. After an eternity, they both collapsed against the bed, Fitz's full weight on top of her. Liv smiled tiredly and stroked his back lightly with the tips of her fingers, from the bottom of his spine to his hairline. In his arms, she felt alive.

She felt safe.

As aftershocks still rocked her body, she gloried in the feeling of still being connected to Fitz, both physically and emotionally.

"Next time, " he murmured lazily after catching his breath, "I want you to ride me," he said.

Involuntarily, Liv clenched around him as she let out a little moan. He pulled his head away from her neck, which he'd been lazily sucking on, and said, eyes soft, "I'll take that as a nonverbal agreement-" he began

She pulled his head back down to kiss him gently on the lips. "I love you too," she replied, tracing her fingers lightly across his features, from his forehead, across his nose, then his cheekbones and lips. Fitz nipped at her fingers before saying seriously, "I know."

**Whaddya think?! Be kind, but be honest, too. If it's bad or some parts can be written differently, let me know. I made some edits to this chapter and re-posted it. Hope you guys liked it!  
**


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

10 MONTHS LATER

Olivia woke slowly, a rare occurrence. Usually, she was rushed into the mornings by buzzing alarm clocks or urgent phone calls concerning some emergency she had to fix.

But not today.

Today, she'd woken with a sense of stillness that was so infrequent, she almost didn't recognize it for what it was: peace.

And that peace hadn't come from loving her job or knowing that her family and friends were safe; though those things were true, she knew the true source to be the man whose embrace she was currently enveloped in.

Her head rested on his bicep while his other arm was wrapped securely around her middle. The hand attached to said arm also had a warm grip on her breast, a fact that made Liv grin happily.

Fitz had his head tucked in the crook of her neck, his breaths tickling her. He also had a thigh pushed possessively between both of hers and Liv thought, with a tinge of sadness, _'I wish I could wake up like this every day'._

She didn't move for fear of waking him, of breaking the tenuous hold she had on this moment. Lightly, as if he were an unspeakably fragile artifact, she traced the veins and knuckles of his left hand.

"If you keep doing that," Fitz murmured against the skin of her neck, "I won't be held accountable for my actions."

Liv's fingers paused for a moment. Then, they continued their lazy explorations across his hand.

Fitz smiled into her skin. He'd woken up only moments ago to the sensation of gentle fingers against his own. He honestly couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been happier. He wracked his brain over and over again about each milestone he'd conquered since birth and no singular memory could compare to the absolute _joy_ he felt when he was in her presence.

When he graduated from high school and escaped his dad by moving to college, Fitz felt relief because he was finally free. After graduating law school, he felt accomplished. On his wedding day, he felt…resignation.

Then, there were the days that his children were born. Fitz remembered feeling wonder that he had created such tiny human beings, and the humility he felt at the responsibility. And up until three years ago, the births of his children had been the happiest times of his life.

But then, when he'd least expected it—when Fitz thought life had nothing new to offer him as a middle-aged, average politician, he'd met Olivia. He'd come face to face with his destiny and for the first time, believed in powers at work that were greater than himself. Call it what you will—fate, God, or even destiny. But how else could he explain her? Or the fact that he seemed to be born to love her?

He tugged her a little closer as he remembered what happened between them just hours ago…

"Fitz!" Olivia rasped out, frustrated, into the pillow. He'd been teasing her for the past half hour, plunging into her from behind with driving force only to pull away as soon as he sensed she was close to release. It was ridiculous how well he knew her body and she, his. After ten months of near-constant contact, he barely had to prepare her anymore. One look…one _word_, and she was ready.

**One hour earlier…**

Liv had just stepped out of the bathtub when her house phone rang. Glancing at the clock, her heart fluttered a little as she realized who it could be. Wrapped in her towel, she padded over to the phone and answered it, saying, "You have an early meeting in the morning. You shouldn't be calling me, you should be getting ready for bed—"

"If everything goes according to plan, I'll be in bed very, _very_ soon," Fitz cut her off to happily say, "Open the door."

Liv's heart skipped another beat as she nearly ran to the front of her apartment. "But it's the middle of the week! We can't, Fitz," she replied even as she opened the door.

Whatever Fitz was about to say was forgotten as he took in her appearance. He looked from her flushed face to the water droplets disappearing into her towel, and his gaze ended at her bare toes. Hanging up his phone, he slowly entered her apartment and shut the door behind him. When Liv heard the lock click, she backed up slowly, knowing that he liked the chase and that she, in turn, wanted to be caught.

"We can't—" she began again only to stop midsentence when Fitz took off his suit jacket and threw it on the floor. He then proceeded to kick off his shoes and remove his tie as he said, "Yes, we _can_."

Liv grinned and began to run down the hall but Fitz quickly caught her, lifting her off her feet. Eyes smiling, he kissed her soundly. Liv's laughter was silenced by his kiss and she returned the gesture tenfold, sneaking her arms around his neck and trying to get impossibly closer. Sometimes she felt as if she couldn't get close enough to his skin, as if she'd expire without his touch.

And those times scared the hell out of her. But instead of running or retreating into herself, as she was prone to do, she inched closer. She kissed deeper, she clung tighter.

Because she knew what it was like to lose him.

And she would rather be scared to death of the passion he stirred inside of her than to be without him, even for a moment.

Fitz pulled away to softly say, "Hi."

Liv caught his bottom lip between her teeth and gently tugged. Then, she repeated the action with his upper lip, sucking the sting away. His smiling eyes turned serious in a way that turned her knees to jello, for she knew all the expressions of his face. And it was made all the more special to her because she was the only person in the whole world that was privileged to be witness to it. She was the only person on earth who got to see this side of him.

Fitz caught her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he quickly divested her of her towel. His breath caught when he slipped his hands all over her warm body, which, he realized, smelled strongly of pumpkin pie. He growled in her ear after he bit into the lobe, "Why do you smell of pie?"

Liv laughed softly against his lips as she asked innocently, "Do you like it? It's a new bubble bath scent by Sephora—"

Fitz cut her reply in half as he licked his way into her mouth and he didn't release her until they finally made it into her room and he tossed her lightly onto the bed. He slowly took off the rest of his clothes before he said, "You are well aware that pumpkin is my favorite, followed closely by apple."

Olivia sat up on her knees to stroke her fingers through his soft chest hair and replied, "I do. But I didn't know that you were coming over tonight. Otherwise, I would've made dinner for you—"

Liv stopped speaking as a moan slipped from her mouth when Fitz began to suck on the juncture between her neck and shoulder. "I came hungry, Liv, but there's no need to cook anything," he said, pushing her down onto the bed beneath him. "You're going to feed me," he said. Then, he began to feast.

Which is how they got to their current positioning.

"Fitz!" Olivia sobbed into the pillow again. It had started off as a sweet torture, but his games were quickly becoming tedious; in fact, it was getting to the point that Liv wanted to flip them, to _ride_ him roughly, until she found her release. Fitz had this unerringly accurate talent of playing her body like a musical instrument—his hands, her conductor. His voice, her maestro.

Just when she didn't think she could take anymore, Fitz pushed into her again, whispering jaggedly into her ear, "Come for me, Livy." Coupled with his fingers moving so expertly beneath her, Liv had no choice but to obey, her body responding to his commands instantly. When tremors began to take over her body, Fitz allowed his own to surrender with hers and he buried his face between her shoulder blades, groaning into her skin.

Liv reached back to curl her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Fitz accommodated her and leaned closer to her face as she turned her head to kiss him. "Hi," she whispered, strangely shy.

"Hi," he echoed again this morning, wishing for more. The fact that Liv had stayed with him the past ten months and demanded nothing from him…it was both humbling and challenging. It humbled him because he didn't deserve her. And it challenged him because it forced him into a decision that he should have made three years ago.

Fitz said against her neck, "Last night, I gave Mellie divorce papers."

Liv stopped breathing for a moment. Slowly, she turned around in Fitz's embrace and curled her fingers against his chest. Looking into his eyes, she said, "You—"

"I gave her the papers, Olivia," Fitz repeated, stroking his thumb across her mouth. "A week ago, I had our family lawyers draw up the papers and I signed them. I spent the last week gathering as much evidence against her as I could—testimonies from her doctors and the nurses who help with Ted, photo and audio proof of her infidelity and much more. I've built a solid case against her if she tries to destroy either of us. I have no doubt that the divorce will be nasty—"

Liv opened her mouth to argue but Fitz leaned in to kiss her softly before she could say a word.

"But I am determined to make you my wife, Livy," he said, pulling away slightly. "Olivia Grant," he said, grinning like a fool. "My wife," he finished, embracing her again when tears started to fall.

Olivia smiled when he thumbed away her tears. "Are you sure?" she asked, pulling away to cup his cheeks in her hands. "Because I don't think I could take it if you changed your mind or if something got in the way," she replied honestly.

Fitz pressed his forehead against hers and vowed, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

Liv allowed a sigh to escape at the conviction in his voice. He wasn't going to let anything stop them from being together anymore, and his certainty gave her permission to hope.

To dream.

Of a ring and of a home built out of love. Of children and of laughter and silly fairy tales waxing poetic about happily ever afters.

"Olivia Pope-Grant," she muttered, smiling against his nipple. "I like the sound of that."

* * *

Fitz was sitting in his office, going over some paperwork when Mellie walked in and shut the door. He'd been expecting her ever since he'd come back this morning. Last night, when he presented her with the divorce papers, she'd said very little, choosing to simply leave the room. But now that she'd had a day and a half to mull it over, Fitz was expecting a thunderstorm of epic proportions.

Mel came into the Oval and stood over Fitz's desk, staring at him. He put down his pen, folded his arms and said, "I know you've prepared some grand speech about how you're not going to sign the divorce papers, so let's get on with it."

"How does she do it?" Mellie asked, her voice hollow.

Fitz looked up at her, confused. "How does she do what?" he replied.

"It must be the sex," Mellie continued, seeming not to hear him. "I mean, really, what else is there? Other than the way she must moan your name and spread her legs so willingly for you, what else is left?" she asked woodenly, staring into his eyes.

For almost 3 years, she'd had to swallow the surprising amount of anger she held about her husband's indiscretions. In all the time they'd been married, he had never once cheated on her, even though they hadn't actually had intercourse in over seven years.

Mellie was well aware that it wasn't morality, but _determination,_ that kept him faithful. Determination not to become like his father.

And Mellie had been resigned, if not happy, about that fact. She'd be the first to admit that Fitz's physique was something to be marveled at for a man his age. She also would've admitted to longing for the carnal rights she used to share with him, had her pride allowed it.

"What does she do?" Mellie asked again, having reached her boiling point with her husbands' complete and utter disregard for her feelings.

As if she had none.

How confident he was, when he presented her with divorce papers last night before mysteriously leaving the White House. Mellie knew that he was going to her home, or office, or wherever they went to have their interludes.

"What is it about her that commands your loyalty, your fidelity, and your respect?! Tell me, Fitz! I need to know, I _deserve_ to know!" Mellie ended, angrily swiping away an errant tear.

Fitz was struck silent at Mellie's emotional display. He'd seen her angry, bitter, frustrated, calculating, and scathing. But not once, during the entire span of their marriage, had she allowed him to see her cry in a way that wasn't designed for some manipulative purpose.

And he was ashamed.

"Mel," Fitz began—

"I don't want to hear any apologies, Fitz. I don't want excuses and I sure as _hell_ don't want your pity," she interrupted firmly. "I am your wife," she said, the tears running, unchecked, down her face, her expression neutral. "It's a fact that I shouldn't have to remind you of, but I seem to be repeating it to you over and over again."

Fitz sat back in his chair and listened, really _listened_, to what she was saying.

"You may not be in love with me or love me the way you love her," she continued, sitting up straighter in her chair. Raising her chin a notch, she said simply, "But I have what she does not, and that is recognition before God, our families, friends, and the entire world, that we have pledged our lives to one another.

"And though you seem to have forgotten your commitments to me, the simple fact remains:

"I am your wife.

_"I_ am your wife, and if nothing else matters, you have an obligation to respect and to honor the title, the _position_ that I hold in your life, whether you desire to or not."

Fitz took a moment to digest her words before saying, "I think you should ask yourself something, Mellie. Do you really want me to stay with you because I feel _obligated_?"

Without hesitation, Mellie answered, saying, "Of course not. What self-respecting woman would? But if I can't have love—_your_ love—and I no longer have my dignity, which you stripped from me when you paraded your lover around _my_ white House under my nose, then I _will_ have my position and my career," she finished strongly.

"I am getting this divorce Mellie," Fitz answered with conviction, rising from his seat. She had made some valid points, but it didn't change the fact that he no longer loved her or wanted her. Nor does it change the fact that his love for his Livy was absolute. He could not continue in a marriage with Mellie and allow Liv to remain his mistress while still holding respect for himself. It was unfair to them both.

Mellie looked shocked, then resigned. Straightening her shoulders, she dealt the final blow, the last card she had left to play.

"Tell me Fitz," she began with a slight smirk on his face. She'd have to reveal her part in the scheme, but at least she would crush this ridiculous, overwhelming love her husband had for Olivia Pope. "Do you remember Defiance?"

**Hello all! Thanks so much for your support and your patience, it means the world to me! Today is my day off so I've finished chapter 10 and I've started on chapter 11 already, the final chapter. I should be done with 11 in a few hours and I'll have it up today. Happy inappropriate Wednesday everyone!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Registering 52 people for hotel rooms was a long and arduous process. Not only was it approaching midnight, but everyone had to be back on the bus by 5:30 a.m. for the pancake breakfast, so most members of the campaign were dead on their feet anyway.

"Why don't you let me take over for the rest of the check-ins," Cyrus said to Liv as he stepped up next to her in the hotel lobby. "You've done most of them so it should only take another ten minutes or so for the rest," he finished.

Liv smiled her thanks at him even as her heart started to pound in her ears. Taking over the check-in process had at least kept her hands busy—hands that were still tingling and sensitive from the grip she'd had on Governor Grant's fingers in the bus only moments before.

Liv still couldn't believe she'd been so bold. When he'd looked at her and implored her with that smile to 'say his name', she couldn't help but think of other situations in which he would demand the same.

Sweaty, breathless, straining situations.

She'd had to look away from him then, but it hadn't stopped her from reaching for his fingers in between their seats.

A mistake that was already costing her.

Liv was startled out of her thoughts when a strong arm gripped her elbow and began leading her in another direction. Her gasp was cut short when she looked up and saw that it was, in fact, Governor Grant.

_Keep calling him 'governor', Liv,_ she thought to herself. _That ought to stop you from picturing him naked._

She said nothing as he led her to an empty conference room near the end of the hall. He turned when she closed the door and reached behind her to lock it. The action caused him to be impossibly close to her, and it was then that she realized his intention.

"What are you doing?" she asked, much more breathless than the stern tone she had been going for.

Fitz said nothing. He'd had control over the past few weeks. Greek god control. _Herculean_ control. He'd waited and he'd watched, hoping that his attraction to Liv wasn't one-sided. And tonight, he'd gotten his answer. One thing had become clear to him—if he didn't kiss her, at least once in this life, he would never forgive himself.

So, on impulse, he grabbed her elbow and led her to an empty room; a room where there were no cameras, no staffers, and nothing to stop him from having a minute alone with her.

As he stepped closer, she backed up until she hit the door. "What are you doing?" she asked him and he wanted to smile. He already knew Olivia Pope to be a woman who knew precisely what was going on in any given situation before she even walked into a room. She knew exactly what he was doing. And judging by the quickening of her breaths, the dilation of her pupils and the simple fact that she wasn't leaving—it was all the encouragement he needed.

Fitz kept his left hand firmly in a fist by his side to prevent himself from hauling her against his body. His other arm, however, he allowed to wrap around her waist, coaxing her gently. Her breath was escaping her lips and he felt it on his own, causing his chest to tighten and parts of him to harden. Fitz slowly placed his forehead against hers before he tilted it at an angle.

Hands flying to his shoulders, Liv tried once more, voice weak, "We shouldn't," she whispered in the hair's breadth between them. But before she could finish speaking, his lips were brushing lightly over hers.

And Liv felt her world tilt on its axis.

Suddenly, instead of her hands trying to push him away, they were trying to pull him closer. They shook as they inched themselves into hair that she'd been dying to touch, to _tug_ for weeks. And the light, closed-mouthed kisses weren't enough. He was holding himself so rigidly that a growing part of her wanted to break that control.

Liv tentatively reached out her tongue to brush against his bottom lip. Then, she opened her mouth to gently capture the same lip between her teeth. Slowly, she tugged until she could capture it and sucked hard, moaning into his mouth.

Fitz's control snapped.

He'd hoped to gentle her…to share a slow, but thorough kiss with her that would, hopefully, last a lifetime. But then she'd bit him and a side of him that he hadn't even known existed had risen to the surface. That part of him screamed _Mine!_ And it wanted to _show_ her that she was his by taking her against the door until she agreed.

He drove his tongue into her mouth, over and over again, until no part of her was left untouched. Then, he did it again, plunging between her lips in an imitation of how he would take her—slow, leisurely thrusts followed by hard, driving ones.

When she whimpered against him—a very high, feminine, and extremely arousing sound—Fitz ground his erection into her as he moved his hands from her face to cup her buttocks, giving himself better leverage. He'd been itching to get his hands on that part of her for weeks.

Just as their kiss was beginning to lose even more control, Liv's phone rang, snapping them both out of their haze. Without losing eye contact, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and answered, saying, "What?"

Cyrus said, "I'm sending people to their rooms since I have all the keys now. Have you seen Fitz?" he asked.

_And so the lying begins_, Liv thought. "I think I saw him heading to the men's room," she replied smoothly.

Fitz still hadn't moved away. And now that she was thinking more clearly, she noticed that he looked like he'd been felt up in a coat closet. Lipstick was smeared on his mouth and his hair was in disarray. His tie was on the floor and the first button to his shirt was missing.

Embarrassed, Liv tried to straighten him up a little and Fitz quickly caught on as he took over the task. He bent to the floor to retrieve his tie and Liv took the opportunity to get the hell out of there. Her knees were weak and a pulsing demand had started up in her center that wasn't going away. How could she have been so stupid? How did she not foresee that one kiss wouldn't have been enough? That one kiss wouldn't douse the flames, but pour gasoline on them?

When Fitz met Liv and Cyrus at the elevator doors, he'd looked completely composed, not a hair out of place. It made Liv want to mess him up again. But, she refrained as she, instead, began to recite the names of every United States president in her head. Even so, she still couldn't stop thinking about how Fitz tasted or what they could accomplish if given an hour of uninterrupted time.

Cyrus was rattling on about his flesh burning at prayer in the morning when Liv arrived at her door. The journey from the elevator to her hotel room had been a blur but she was well aware of every breath she took now. Fitz was just standing behind her, not moving when he said, "Just go in your room and we'll pretend like this never happened."

But Liv couldn't pretend. And the unfortunate truth is that she didn't want to. She knew that she _should_, that she would be a stronger person if she _did_, but she didn't. She wanted to curl up in his arms and forget the rest of the world. She wanted to walk away from her obligations and she wanted to explore what they had.

As man stepped out onto the moon for the first time, she wanted to step out into the unknown with him. Because she had a feeling that he would bring something into her life that was outside this world. Something that most only dreamed about and few actually brought into reality.

Three years ago, her fate had been sealed when she'd walked towards his hotel room at the end of the hall; no, in fact, it was sealed weeks before that when she entered a high school gymnasium and saw Fitz for the first time.

Liv smiled, thinking of their first time together and still got goose bumps on her skin. A strange excitement began to enter her chest as she thought of the promises he'd made her in the quiet before the sun came up. He was divorcing Mellie. Whether or not he would remain president or not was yet to be seen, but she didn't care. She didn't love him for his job.

She loved him for his soul.

It had been twelve and a half hours since he left her apartment and she was anxious to see him again. Now that they were going to be together, _for real_ this time, she found herself impatient to get started. She wanted him to have a toothbrush at her place. And some clothes. And other little things that reminded her of him when she came home at night. She wanted him to have a key and invade her space in a way that she would only resent if it were any other man.

Her cell phone rang and when she looked at the caller ID, she knew that only one person would be calling her from that number.

She picked up the phone saying, "I was thinking of ordering Chinese takeout tonight if you want to join me—"

"Were you a part of Defiance?" Fitz asked, interrupting her. He had to know. Because if she said no, then he would believe her. She would help him get past it but they would do it together. But if she was a part of that—of that complete betrayal of everything he believed in and everything he believed _she_ was…he didn't know what he would do.

Everything in Olivia froze. In five seconds, she went from the highest high to the lowest low. From total happiness to despair of the most desperate kind. Her heart broke when she heard those words spoken from his mouth. It hadn't even occurred to her to lie, but it seemed impossible to tell the truth. Words got stuck in her throat when she tried to apologize. It was like her brain was commanding her lips to move but no words came out. No word but one.

"Fitz," she whispered finally, holding her breath.

Fitz choked out a sob when he heard her. When Mellie told Fitz all about Defiance, Ohio, he was sure that she had put her own spin on it. But he had refused to believe that Olivia would know about the rigged election, let alone actually be a part of it. She was the most morally sound person he knew, and he knew her better than anyone.

He had been so convinced that he was right that he'd called Liv moments after Mellie left the Oval. He had been so certain that Liv would deny it, that he would have to tell _her_ what Mellie and Cyrus had done. But when the other end went silent…when she said nothing but his name…it shattered him.

"How _could_ you?" he whispered brokenly.

"I love—" she began

"_Don't_—" he cut her off harshly. "Don't you dare say _that_ to me. Not now, not ever," he said. Because if she loved him, she wouldn't have done it. If she loved him, she would have told him three years ago. She would have let him lose so that he could be free, so that they could be together.

Liv tried not to cry as she heard the sadness in his voice, but it was a battle she couldn't win. "What are you saying?" she pleads with him softly.

Fitz bit out the only words he could, words that were born from anger and hurt. "I'm saying that I don't want you anymore. We're done," he finished, slamming the phone down. The thing he hated the most was that he didn't mean those words. Not really. She could probably ruin his whole life and still he would love her. He hated her for that.

But not more than he hated himself for it.

**SEVEN MONTHS LATER**

Liv's phone was ringing.

It had been ringing for the past ten minutes but Liv didn't feel like getting up to get it. It would require more energy than she was willing to expend to scoot all the way over to the other side of the bed just to answer it.

_What if it's him?_ her thoughts challenged her. _What if he's calling because he forgave me?_ Liv couldn't deny the temptation to find out the answer and she eventually leaned over to pick up the receiver. She had suffered through seven months of silence, seven months of being more alone than she'd ever felt in her life.

She'd been relentless in her pursuit of him ever since he hung up on her seven months ago. She'd dialed his private number every day for weeks before giving up. She even visited the White House several times before her privileges were revoked. After speaking to Cyrus one final time several months ago, she'd finally let go. Liv would never forget what Cyrus had said that night. "_He doesn't want to see you Liv…you're not _good_ for him anymore."_

Cyrus' old words still ringing in her ears, she answered with a bored, "What?"

"Liv, you need to get down here," Cyrus said urgently. She immediately sat up in bed and asked, "What's happened? Is he okay?" She couldn't bear the thought of something happening to him while she was miles away. When someone tried to assassinate him last year, she barely pulled herself together. Liv was convinced that if it happened again, she wouldn't survive it.

"He's fine…physically," Cyrus puffed out. The President of the United States was acting like a lovesick teenager. When Fitz found out about Defiance, he was angry with Mellie and with Cyrus, but it seemed like a part of him had died when he let Olivia go.

"It seems that instead of getting over Defiance, and you, Fitz, of course, has chosen to mope about it. Normally, I wouldn't care about something like that, but this country isn't going to run itself, Liv, and he hasn't gotten out of bed. Yesterday, we could play it off, tell everyone he was sick. Today, he has to get his butt out of bed and do his job, Livy!" Cyrus ended on a yell.

Liv was already throwing on clothes. She'd only taken a bath an hour ago so she only had to fix her hair before flying out the door. She could've hung up the phone. She could have written it off as being one of the many things that 'weren't her problem'.

But she loved him. And that didn't go away just because it was inconvenient or because he was mad at her. So, there was only one thing left to say. "I'll be there in 20."

* * *

Liv walked into the bedroom and saw Fitz. His eyes were closed but she could tell by the bags underneath them and the hair on his jaw that he'd been just as miserable as she was. Without opening his eyes, he said, "Go away." He turned onto his other side, dismissing her.

Instead of heeding his words, Liv kicked off her shoes and padded over to the bed. She pulled back the covers and slid beneath them. Then, after a few minutes, she started to softly trace the bones and muscles in his back.

"I was going to sabotage your election," she began slowly. When he still didn't respond, Liv continued. "I actually thought, for a split second, that you would forgive me if I let you lose. That you somehow wouldn't blame me for failing you," she said.

At that, Fitz quickly turned in her arms and pinned her hands underneath him, next to her head. Staring deeply into her eyes, he grudgingly asked, "What do you mean?" After seven months of not being able to see her or hear her voice, he was starved for her now. His eyes traced every valley and curve of her face as he felt something relax inside of him.

Liv was encouraged that he at least seemed to be listening to her, so she continued with the only thing that mattered now: the truth.

"I thought that if you lost, I could keep you. That you would be _mine_," she said, eyes filling with tears. "We wouldn't have to sneak around or lie or cheat anymore because no one cares what the runner-up does. No one pays attention to the people who lost the election, only the person who won." Liv gently removed her hand from his grasp and pushed his hair off of his face.

"I was in the perfect position to sabotage your campaign. I even went so far as to make a plan of action until something stopped me," she said.

Fitz allowed himself to briefly lean into her touch before he caught himself. He did not yet know if he was willing or able to forgive her for everything. "What stopped you? What made you go from preparing to destroy my chances of being president to ensuring that I gained the position?" he asked, trying desperately to understand why she'd done it.

"I heard you speak," she said simply. "You'd spoken before, but not like you did that night. You opened yourself up to that woman in front of the world about your days as a pilot and how much you were afraid. You connected with that woman and with every American who had a family member in the armed forces. You showed them parts of you that only I'd known existed," she said, cupping his cheeks now. "I heard you speak and I saw what would be a _great_ president," she whispered.

Fitz turned away from her again, at war with himself. When she laid down on the bed beside him, a part of him wanted to punish her still. He'd wanted her to hurt as much as he did. But the larger part of him, the part that he resented, wanted to roll over, strip her, and pound into her until neither of them could think anymore. Until they forgave each other for all their shortcomings and rose together, stronger than before.

"Do you remember the last thing your dad said to you before he died?" Liv asked quietly. He said nothing but at least he hadn't kicked her out yet.

"I do," she continued. "In fact, it was all I could think about for a long time. You want to know my reasons, my _why_? Because there is nothing on earth that could or would ever convince me that you are a loser. You are brilliant. You are warm and passionate and your heart bleeds for this country. And I'll be _damned_ if I let your father's words resonate within you, the love of _my_ life, for the rest of yours.

"So, I made a decision. A stupid decision, but one that I can't take back now. And I'm sorry. Because in making that decision for your happiness I lost sight of the fact that your sense of integrity and honor that I fell in love with would not allow you to accept Defiance. It would never allow you to be okay with it. And it would not allow you to forgive me," she ended on a broken whisper.

He remained silent but Liv took that as a good sign. At least he was still listening. She was still touching his back but she allowed her arms to come around him and her face to rest by his neck.

"I don't regret us," she said firmly, "Not once. Not _ever_ will I regret us. You didn't _make_ me fall in love with you, I did that all on my own. I love you and I would do _anything_ for you, even if it meant letting go of my integrity, my reason, and my morality. I made the decision that I made about Defiance with the full knowledge that if you ever found out, you would hate me. And I accepted that price for your happiness. The cost was, and still is, worth it.

"But Liv, that doesn't make any sense—" Fitz began, hoping she'd realize that he didn't care as much about the election rigging as he did about them being separated _because_ of his presidency.

"When your man has worked his whole life to reach a certain goal, what else should I think other than he wants it? If I could give you this one thing—"

Liv was cut short as he turned in her arms and his lips descended upon hers. She reached up and gently cupped his cheeks, scraping her fingers through his two-day old stubble as she felt something in her unwind.

He pulled away slightly. "I don't have a man," he said, brushing his thumb along her lips. "But I do have a woman. If she'll still have me," he said, a question in his eyes.

Liv blew out a breath. "Oh, I don't know," she said playfully. "He'll have to prove he's still dedicated," she replied, pulling his shirt over his head. Fitz smiled truly for the first time in seven long months.

"I look forward to the challenge, Ms. Pope," he replied, claiming her lips once more.

**The End**

**This has been such an exciting journey with you guys! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying my stories! Hopefully, there'll be more to come in the future!**


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